


Cat and Mouse

by AshitaNewssnoopy



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Adult Content, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Hogwarts Eighth Year, M/M, Male Slash, Mild Language, Pure Unabashed Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-03
Updated: 2013-09-23
Packaged: 2017-12-22 06:31:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 33,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/910016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AshitaNewssnoopy/pseuds/AshitaNewssnoopy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco wants Harry and he will do whatever is necessary to get him, including engaging Harry in a sexy game of cat and mouse in the hopes that it will garner the Gryffindor's attention.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
> 
>  **Author's Notes:** Written for angelggirl13 on Fan Fiction as a thank you for being one of the first to review the Heartaches and Dreams series (known there as Lips of an Angel). She requested the song, _For Your Entertainment_ by Adam Lambert, with a predator/prey or hunter/hunted scenario and the boys either at a club, or sneaking around Hogwarts. It was meant to be adrabble and it ballooned out of control to ten parts. 
> 
> No plot whatsoever - this is pure, unabashed, shameless smut.
> 
> \------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

****

Target Acquired

Draco leaned against the castle wall indolently, looking for all the world to be completely and utterly bored, and paying absolutely no mind to the milling students as they rushed through the halls between classes; but the observant eye would note that this was a façade. True, he had no care for the insipid conversation swirling around him, but he was far from unaware of his surroundings, his eyes restlessly scanning the hall for his chosen prey – a certain raven-haired, green-eyed saviour that had remain conspicuously elusive up to this point.

Not that he'd allow the other boy's avoidance halt him; he was a Malfoy, and Malfoy's always got what they wanted in the end.

A smug smile twisted his lips; one he artfully turned into a yawn as he finally caught sight of those he had been searching for – no, not the boy himself, but the twitterpated new couple that followed him endlessly. Granger and the Weasel walked down the hall, hand-in-hand, in the throes of young love, completely oblivious to their missing party as they floated past towards the charms classroom. Licking his lips in anticipation, he bit back a chortle of glee as triumph surged through his gut; it was at times like this that he was thankful for their oblivion and Potter's unrelenting chivalry, that prompted him to give them time alone due to their burgeoning relationship.

It played so perfectly into his plans. Although, this was not the kind of ambush everyone typically attributed to the Malfoy heir; he no longer wanted Potter's pain, after all.

Draco had returned to Hogwarts under great scrutiny, invited back with the rest of his year mates who had also missed or had an interrupted seventh year due to the war, an event that had thoroughly opened his eyes. Usually he kept his head down, knowing that the vast majority of his peers, and even some of the instructors, were wary of him. And after a year of living under that madman's thumb, he had no interest in reviving old rivalries.

But as always, he did have an interest in Potter.

It seemed that despite his intentions, he could never simply ignore the the other boy; but this time, his focus had changed. He still wanted the boy, flushed and pliant, writhing beneath him, but this time he wanted it to be pleasure, not pain that spilled from those perfect red lips.

And he intended to make that a reality no matter what measures it took.

Finding you were attracted to your one time nemesis was a bit daunting; especially when said rival was the Boy-Who-Everyone-Coveted. But who could fault him? Potter had changed over the summer and returned to Hogwarts looking utterly fuckable. Rumour had it, that after he'd snuffed the Dark Bastard, Potter had escaped to the continent for an extended holiday and to avoid the media frenzy that had struck the moment the Dark Lord's demise had been announced. And judging from his appearance, it had been a hell of a holiday.

His body had matured, broadening and filling out in a way that spoke of well-fed, stress free, active days and well-rested nights; deliciously so, taking him from the half-starved, dishevelled waif nearly falling down with exhaustion at the end of the Great Battle to a gorgeous, put together man, whose perfect arse fill out his sinfully snug jeans beautifully.

Conversation had halted the moment Potter had confidently strode onto the platform, something everyone had expected to happen – and something the man himself had been blissfully unaware of – but what hadn't been expected were the lust-filled gazes ogling the man he'd become in his absence. The once rat's nest hair had been cut and styled, falling around his shoulders like a thick, raven tousle that made Draco want to run his hands through it, just to see if it was as silky as it appeared. And as he turned, the low light glinted off the single, gold hoop dangling from his left lobe, adding to the air of danger and mystery that swirled around him in a palpable cloud.

He moved with the grace of a cat, quite unlike his previous years, as he walked up to his friends, greeting them with a blindingly warm smile that left Draco weak-kneed, and his insides melting, even though the smile hadn't included him. He had taken a shaky breath, a low heat curling in his groin, making his own trim trousers uncomfortable and had started to turn away when he'd spied the _plat de résistance_ – a tattoo.

The Golden Boy had a tattoo.

And not just any tattoo, but a crimson and gold snake that curled around his biceps, just peaking out of his black, short-sleeved, knit shirt. The sight of it had made his mouth run dry and Draco couldn't help but wonder just how much of that delectable body the snake covered.

Feeling sucker punched, Draco stared unabashedly, his mind reeling from the changes in his one time rival; and then Potter had turned, their eyes clashing and holding for a long, silent moment as Draco's heartbeat spun out of control. Green fire seemed to encase him, stroking places it had no right to affect, and nearly burned him alive as it simmered through a veil of thick sooty lashes when Potter's gaze slowly travelled over his body. Licking his lips lasciviously, Potter's eyes flicked back up to Draco's as he winged one brow and winked saucily, turning away without a word.

Draco stood, paralysed by the heat that had built in those expressive eyes, until Blaise had muttered something indistinguishable under his breath and broke his trance. By that time, Potter had move on, loading up his trunks onto the train and hastily boarded it, sending one lone glance over his shoulder before disappearing from sight, intent on avoiding the gathering crowd. Swallowing thickly, Draco shook his head to clear it and boarded himself, missing the knowing glances behind his back and the silent bets being placed on just how long it would take for one of the former rivals to make his move.

It was in that moment that Draco had decided to make the beautiful Gryffindor his.

Which led him here, patiently waiting for his unsuspecting quarry. He'd all but stalked Potter over the past few weeks, learning his schedule and habits, seeking for the appropriate time and way to make his interest known, and finally decided that if he didn't make a move soon, he was going to go mad. He knew that Potter made it a habit to make himself scarce in the hope of avoiding the fawning crowds, popping up to his classes just minutes prior to the lesson. That quirk had made things a bit difficult, given the habit had nearly made Draco late on occasion, but it also made his potential flight from a potentially angry Potter easier.

Tossing a glance towards the opening classroom door, he waited until the masses made their way in before he quietly slipped behind the tapestry next to him, carefully hiding in the little known alcove to keep watch. Predatory eyes trained on the end of the hall as Draco smiled and a spike of anticipation snaked down his spine as his beautiful quarry came into sight.

… … …

Harry sighed quietly as he trudged up the stairs, thankful that they had remained stationary this morning, alone, as he had sent his friends on ahead of him; not that they would have noticed his absence. Ron and Hermione were far too wrapped up in their fledgling relationship to pay much mind to anything beyond each other these days. And rightfully so given everything they had sacrificed and done to be where they were today. Harry didn't begrudge them their happiness, really; it was more that he envied it and wished he could find a little of the same.

With the fall of Voldemort, for the second and final time, his popularity and fame had sky-rocketed, leaving him faced with more fan girls, and some boys, than he ever cared to have; it had made it singularly difficult to find a meaningful relationship when one had to wade though hero worshipers, gold diggers (and thanks ever so much for that, Rita) and glory hounds. All of whom only saw the rapidly fading scar on his brow opposed to the real person. It was exhausting, and often left him preferring his own company to those seeking his.

Sycophants came in all shapes and forms, and as fun (and enlightening) as his summer had been, the connections had fleeting at best, non-existent at worse, and left him completely unfulfilled all around. He'd returned to England, still looking for something, only to find all his friends happily paired and him the odd man out.

Exhaling heavily, he turned the corner, heading for charms, mind still focused on his relationship woes, or really, lack of relationship woes, when a hand struck out of nowhere, snagging him around the wrist and yanked him behind a tapestry. Letting out an unmanly squeak as he hit the wall, one he'd deny at a later date, Harry scrambled for his wand, but never had the chance to pull it as his assailant's lithe body leaned into him, making his breath hitch as a hot, stiff cock pressed firmly against his. Gasping quietly as soft lips brushed over his ear, he bit back a pained groan and grappled with the front of the boy's robes with every intention of pushing him away, when a startling familiar voice ghosted over his ear, making him freeze down to a cellular level.

"Good Morning, Potter," Malfoy whispered huskily, sending a raw thrill of lust careening through his blood as he tried to make sense of the situation, especially as hands ran over his torso, grabbing his flailing wrists, and pinned them firmly above his head. The fact that Malfoy's lips were also tracing a fiery path over his throat, his teeth nipping delicately at the flesh over his rapidly thrumming pulse, only added to the surrealistic moment.

"Mal-Malfoy?" he stammered, completely out of his depth when another frisson of desire shot down his spine as Malfoy shifted his hips, rubbing his cock into Harry's and made his traitorous body perk up with interest. Sinking his teeth into his bottom lip, he whimpered softly, and valiantly attempted to clear his head, but lost the plot when the other boy began a slow, languid roll of his hips. "What...what are you...doing, Malfoy?"

"I should think that would be obvious, Potter," Malfoy teased, a sexy chuckle rumbling deep in his throat, and then spilling over his lips in an almost palpable caress, slinking over his skin like priceless Acromantula silk. "But if you need it spelled out..."

Harry opened his mouth to protest, but never got the opportunity to respond as his words were cut off by warm, impossibly soft lips capturing his, leaving his head reeling. Malfoy took advantage of the surprised part in his mouth to snake a hot, forceful tongue into it, sliding and tangling it with his own, leaving him breathless and aching as all thought was lost. Groaning heartily, he pulled his hands free of their entrapment and sunk them into pale, silky hair, fervently pressing his body deeper into the slightly taller boy's without hesitation, only a bit annoyed by Malfoy's satisfied huff.

He was still completely bewildered by this fortuitous turn of events, but he was also far too Slytherin to complain.

Sighing, Harry tipped his dizzily spinning head back, allowing for better access to his neck as Malfoy pulled away from his mouth to feast on the skin at his throat, crying out softly when teeth scraped and then bit down hard enough to mark. A wave of pleasure rippled though him at the sharp shock of pain, one that was quickly followed by soft, sucking lips that soothed the bruised flesh.

"Malfoy," he whispered, eyes fluttering shut as the blonde cupped his arse, kneading it absently as his lips continued to do sinful things to Harry's mouth and neck. He took a hiccuping breath when a sure, firm hand slid down his thigh, teasing the clothed flesh and then lifted it, hitching it over Malfoy's hip, so that the other boy sunk deeper into his body, and Harry couldn't quite help the quiet plea that fell over his lips. "Please..."

"Draco," Malfoy whispered, pressing harder against him, eliciting another tiny gasp as he took Harry's mouth again, tangling their tongues in a heated dance that left Harry melting and clutching at Malfoy's shoulders for dear life.

"Draco..." he conceded against his lips, moaning in the back of his throat when fingers slid over his chest and pinched his pierced nipple. The hand and lips paused for a brief, startled second as Malfoy fumbled with his clothing, exploring the area with his fingertips until they latched onto the hoop, and then he groaned deeply, attacking Harry's mouth with a renewed vengeance as he tugged firmly on the little piece of metal.

The action sent another jolt of pure, unadulterated lust burning though his veins; few people knew that Harry liked just a touch of pain with his pleasure, but leave it to Malfoy to discover that titbit right out of the gate. Grunting his approval as Malfoy continued to manipulate the nipple ring, Harry tensed as his groin tightened, filling with a familiar heat that signified his impending orgasm, and he clutched at Malfoy, his breath growing shallow and uneven under the assault.

"Gods, so close..." he murmured, lost in that heady burn that he'd been missing since that past summer.

And that's when it happened – as quickly as Malfoy had ambushed him, the infuriating blonde backed off; leaving a thoroughly disoriented, debauched and unfulfilled Harry slumped against the wall, panting heavily. Bewildered at the abrupt halt to their activities, Harry made a soft noise of discontent, his hands scrabbling at the air in front of him and then froze once more when a silky chuckle filled the air, a hot puff of air wafting over the shell of his ear as Malfoy leaned down to whisper into it.

"Catch me if you can, _Harry_." And then he was gone.

Harry stared at the empty space before him in utter disbelief, his body hot, tight and aching for the Slytherin's touch, stunned that the blonde bastard had ambushed him, worked him up to just a thread shy of coming and then left him hanging out to dry. Growling under his breath, Harry stooped, an action made nearly impossible due to his painfully hard cock, and grabbed his bag, storming out of the alcove and entering the classroom with flashing eyes.

Throwing himself into the chair that Ron and Hermione had saved him, Harry ran a hand through his dishevelled hair and flicked an impatient gaze around the room; his cheeks heating further when it fell on a seemingly unruffled blonde, sitting nonchalantly by Zabini, talking quietly as if nothing had ever happened. Glaring at the boy in question, Harry was frantically trying to figure out just what exactly _had_ happened when Hermione huffed at his side.

"What happened, Harry?" she queried, studying him and obviously noting his flushed cheeks and ruffled appearance. "You were nearly late for class."

"Nothing," he grumbled, still boring holes into the back of his ex-nemesis' head, all the while shifting uncomfortably as his cock continued to throb and press painfully against the zip of his trousers.

"Really," Hermione observed doubtfully. "Then why are you so flustered and out of breath?"

"Had to run back to the tower for something," he muttered, ignoring his friend's smirk as he went over the encounter again, wondering what game Malfoy was playing. _'Catch me if you can, Harry?'_ What the bloody hell did that mean?

"Well, then, you should inform that some _one_ not to leave evidence behind if you don't want to be questioned," Hermione snorted and touched the side of his neck with her quill, smirking when Harry blushed and his hand flew to his neck, caressing the purpling skin. "And to give you more time to get to get to your classes so you won't be so out of breath."

Blush deepening at his friend's wry observation, Harry continued to finger his bruised flesh thoughtfully, jolting when grey eyes finally collided with his, a blatant challenge sparkling in their depths. Huffing when a smirk spilled over those perfect, pink lips, Harry glowered at Malfoy and returned the challenge with one of his own, smirking when those eyes widened appreciatively and the smile broadened before Malfoy cocked a brow and turned back to his companions.

Oh, it was so on.


	2. Drawing Lines in the Sand

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AU in that Snape is alive. How, I have no idea. He just wrote himself in.

A few days had passed since he'd assaulted Potter outside the charms classroom and Draco was beginning to feel a little nervous...anxious... _watched_ , as the silence on the raven's end stretched out. A silence daunting after the heated glower Potter had tossed his way when he'd finally made it to class, looking deliciously rumpled, flushed, his lips tender and bruised from their heated kisses. In other words, thoroughly debauched and painfully aroused judging by the way the Gryffindor had shifted in his seat the entire class period.

Draco couldn't help the surge of pride and triumph that jolted through his blood at the sight of his handy work, blazing on Potter's face for all to see; and it had taken every last thread of his ample self-control not to stalk over, toss Potter up onto his desk and finish what he had started in the alcove. Potter wasn't the only one pained by their interrupted snog session; he'd just learned to hide it better with a few well-placed spells and glamours.

But he'd wanted his prey to crave his kisses, his touch; to crave _him_.

Thus halting things before things went to far in an effort to keep the brash Gryffindor wanting. He'd learned long ago that you had to blatantly challenge Potter to hold his interest. Plus, Malfoy's don't share; and he was damned if he was going to give all of Potter's ravening fan boys and girls a glimpse of what he'd claimed as his alone. Or soon will be.

But, he had to admit, the silence was getting to him; just as the sneaky little lion likely intended.

Since that day, he'd felt eyes on him at all times, following him through their shared common room, flicking over him during meals, burning into the back of his head during classes, pressing heavily against him as he walked down the halls. It was heady, intoxicating, and left heat pooling in the pit of his stomach. Yet, every time he sought out those brilliant, fiery emeralds, they were carefully averted away from him, or worse, nowhere to be seen.

But he knew Potter was there; he could feel that familiar ripple of magic, flowing over his senses as a lover would caress one's skin, leaving him breathless, aching, fevered and screaming silently in frustration the longer Potter drew out the chase. It was like an ash smouldering in the grate, waiting for the spark that would unleash the potential inferno raging within its depths.

Rubbing his hands over his arms, Draco paused, looking cautiously over his shoulder as he reached his destination, all too aware of the covetous eyes that followed his every movement. He couldn't see them, as he'd come to expect, and really, it was far too dark in this corner of the grounds, as the plants in this particular greenhouse thrived on shade and night; but he could feel Potter's presence. Breath hitching as the smouldering ash in his stomach sparked to life, he studied the walk for a minute longer, then turned away and continued the last few steps to the door.

He felt _hunted_ ; and he couldn't decide whether it frightened him or completely turned him on.

Perhaps a touch of both.

Slipping quietly into the greenhouse, he headed towards his project, intent on checking its progress, when invisible hands struck out from nowhere, grasping him around the hips, and spun him around, shoving him into the table behind him. Gasping softly as those same hands raked roughly over his body, fingernails scraping and catching on his nipples, Draco moaned lowly and jolted when the tips pinched them sharply, the pain-edged pleasure shooting straight to his cock. Silky material fluttered to the floor in a careless heap as Draco found himself face to face with a blazingly hot Gryffindor intent on driving him mental.

Staring up into fiery green eyes, Draco swallowed thickly, his throat convulsing as Potter invaded his personal space with a feral grin. Licking his suddenly parched lips, his breathing shallow as the other boy silently stalked towards him, his eyes fell to the silvery cloak bunched up at Potter's feet and wanted to smack himself for his stupidity. Potter's invisibility cloak! Of course. How could he have forgotten about that? It had been his bane in years past.

Flicking his gaze back to Potter's, Draco inhaled deeply at the expression in them, tying to draw air into his constricted lungs, but the tension rich air felt thick, soupy, almost like trying to breathe in the middle of a forest fire – one he aptly named Harry Potter – and left him feeling lightheaded and oxygen deprived as Potter pressed his lean body into his. Keeping his eyes anchored with the smouldering boy's, Draco remained silent, allowing the tension to build between them and nearly trembled, breath suspending when Potter leaned in, lips hovering over his in a silent tease. Flicking his eyes to those full smirking lips, Draco held his breath, waiting endlessly for Potter's next move, and only began to breathe once more when Potter bypassed his mouth in favour of his ear.

"That wasn't very nice of you, Draco," that hot, husky voice purred against it, sharp teeth catching at the lobe and nipping it remonstratively as Potter's hands slowly slid over his torso, scraping, pinching, and kneading at his flesh. Grunting when one hand snaked between them, sliding down over his stomach, his abdominals and cupped his burgeoning erection, Draco hissed and bucked unconsciously into the other boy's hand as he continued. " _Teasing_ me, _touching_ me, making me so hard I could drill holes in concrete and then _walking away_."

Draco groaned at the Gryffindor's words, utterly turned on by the remembrance; a groan that drew out when Potter squeezed his cock gently, heating his blood and making him impossibly harder if one were to believe it. Those talented, callused fingers worked him expertly, pushing him higher as Potter's mouth traced a warm, damp path along his jaw. Panting quietly, he grappled for hold on the table behind him as Potter nudged his thighs apart and sunk between them. Draco whimpered as a long, hard cock finally met his and slid against it his when Potter began to undulate his hips languidly.

_Fucking hell, just what had he unleashed?_

"Do you know how long I had to sit with my cock drilling holes into my trousers?" Potter queried silkily, his hands sliding under Draco's jumper, tracing skin and sinew, which jumped and twitched under those rough, exploratory caresses. Shaking his head jerkily when it became obvious that Potter was waiting for an answer, Draco inhaled sharply and gave a soft cry when teeth sunk into the juncture of his neck, and he just knew that he'd find a mark come morning.

"Four hours," Potter rasped, pressing hot, greedy kisses along his neck, making Draco's eyes flutter shut, overloaded by the combined sensations of hands, teeth, lips and the continuous friction of Potter's hips thrusting into him. " _Four fucking hours_ , Draco; before I could escape to deal with the not so little problem you left me with."

Moaning at the growl in Potter's voice, Draco's hands flew up and anchored into soft, wild curls as warm lips finally captured his, and he secretly marvelled at the unexpected texture. A hot, wet tongue plunged between his lips, snaking and curling around his, stroking, coaxing it into play as Potter seemed to devour him like a man starving. Sliding his hands down over an exquisitely muscled back, Draco cupped that perfect arse, drawing Potter deeper into his body, pleasure crashing through it in a thick, fiery river.

"I came so hard," Potter whispered hotly against his lips, tweaking his nipples and leaving them raw, bruised, and Draco aching for more, proving that Potter wasn't the only one that enjoyed a bit of pain with his pleasure. "Thinking about your pretty pink lips wrapped around my cock; I don't think I've _ever_ been that hot and shaking and desperate for completion, for _anyone_. I should repay you the favour – leave you wanting, begging for more."

Draco choked back a desperate protest when it seemed as if Potter was going to move away, scrabbling at the other boy's back frantically to keep him there, drawing a low, sexy chuckle from Potter's lips. The brunet kissed him slowly, sweetly and merely re-situated himself, so that they were flush, chest to chest and thigh to thigh as Potter nipped playfully at his mouth.

"Luckily for you, I'm a Gryffindor, not a Slytherin," Potter mocked lightly, his hand cupping Draco's cock once more and gently massaging it, bringing a choked cry from Draco's lips, leaving him clinging to Potter desperately and growling softly at his next words. "Want to come?"

"Yes," he whispered fervently, groaning when the hand stilled.

"Then say my name," Potter commanded, squeezing gently when Draco remained quiet. "My name, Draco."

"Potter, please," he whimpered, immediately irritated with himself with his own weakness, but prey to his body's needs, which was on fire, the muscles in his groin heating and coiling, so close to obtaining that white-hot pleasure, that it was nearly driving him mad. Draco growled, beyond frustration, when the tempting, black-haired devil kept him hovering on the brink.

"Wrong," Potter chuckled darkly, stroking him everywhere, but where he most wanted it. Potter's body pressed him deeper into table, the edge biting into the backs of his thighs as the boy demanded again. "My name, if you want to come, Draco."

"Harry..." he conceded, hot relief sluicing through his veins as Potter resumed his rocking, making that sweet ache and heat build to a fiery crescendo, and leaving Draco bucking his hips helplessly as pleasure washed over him in blistering waves. "Gods... _Harry_."

Slumping against the other boy, breathing heavily, his pants and trousers damp and sticky, Draco floated on a cloud of bliss as warm lips traced over his jaw. But it was far too short-lived; and all too soon, Potter was pulling away. Draco groan as he sagged into the table, tensing when bright, lust-filled eyes travelled over him, as if Potter was contemplating swallowing him whole. Drawing in a deep breath, he watched the other man warily, sighing when Potter leaned over as if to kiss him. And then, pressing his lips to his ear, Potter whispered, his eyes glinting in challenge.

"Think you've got what it takes to tame me, Malfoy? Then come and get me."

And with that comment echoing between them, Potter moved away, stooping to scoop up his cloak and disappeared in a swirl of cloth, his footsteps sounding on the concrete as he hurried to the door and slid out into the night, leaving Draco weak-kneed, panting, ruffled and ready to scream.

… … …

Draco stalked into the common room, eyes flashing indignantly as he studied its contents, a certain green-eyed imp conspicuously missing, not that he'd actually expected otherwise. That would have made his life easier and it would have been foolish for Potter to remain accessible after playing Draco at his own game. It had taken him several minutes to regain his composure and run after the elusive, manipulative brat, but by then, his slippery little raven had disappeared, leaving Draco a sweaty, languorous mess.

After righting his clothing a bit, he'd stormed down the greenhouse pathway, completely forgetting the reason he'd been there in the first place, intent on catching his pretty little quarry and teaching him a much needed lesson on riling Malfoys. But that had also proved futile. Fuming quietly when his walk back had turned up neither hair nor hide of Potter, he'd then begun to plot in earnest.

Flicking one last glance through the eighth-year common room, to affirm that it was empty of Potter, and Potterphiles, and still seeing nothing, he narrowed his eyes thoughtfully, pulling his wand from his sleeve. With Potter running around under his invisibility cloak, one couldn't be too careful.

Ignoring his avidly interested friends, sitting in a corner near the fireplace, (he was certain they had been witness to Potter's flight to his room by their expressions), Draco cast a revealing charm, tailoring it to invisibility cloaks, seeking out any unseen persons, and sighed when it came back negative. He wasn't certain if he was happy or annoyed by that conclusion. He'd fully expected Potter to hang around and watch his entrance, but he wasn't about to question this fortuitous event as it gave him a chance to implement his plan.

Stalking across the room, he quickly cast a _Muffliato_ around him, Blaise and Pansy, not wanting the other do-gooders present to inform Potter of his imminent downfall. He stood before his friends, breath harsh and erratic, looking completely debauched he was certain, much as Potter had been last week, and demanded of them quietly.

"I need a favour," he said, his breath coming out in a huff when they took in his appearance as one and cocked matching eyebrows, but he didn't call them out as they also nodded silently in assent. "I need the two of you to make sure that Potter gets detention with Snape, down in the dungeons within the next few days. And make sure that the corridors are clear when he leaves."

"Finally going for it then?" Pansy asked, a smirk blooming on her face when Draco gave a short, irritated nod.

"Oh, yes," Draco replied, smirking right back at her as she and Blaise nodded gleefully and then turned on his heel, heading for his room, plans flitting through his head as he called over his shoulder. "His arse is mine."

"Draco," Pansy called just as he reached the stairs leading to the eighth-year boys dormitory; he turned around and arched one brow in inquiry. "So, when did this all begin?"

"Last week," he replied succinctly, eyes narrowing in suspicion when Pansy chortled in glee and Blaise scowled ferociously in response. Shaking his head, he turned and continued on his way, not even caring what that had been all about. It wasn't important. Right now, he had a sneaky little Gryffindor to tame and that took precedence.


	3. In Enemy Territory?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco's plan goes off without a hitch...

Harry groaned, rubbing at his aching shoulder and arm as he wearily trudged through the dungeon hallways, finally free from that sadistic bastard's (a.k.a. the greasy git, a.k.a. the dungeon bat, a.k.a. Snape the Intolerable) clutches, exhausted after spending the evening scrubbing cauldrons for something that hadn't even been his fault. He wasn't to blame if some clumsy, trembling, little second-year Hufflepuff had startled when she found Pansy Parkinson looming over her, causing her to jump back and slam into Harry, who then proceeded to upturn an entire pitcher of pumpkin juice on the tetchy portions master's robes.

But try explaining that to cool, unrelenting, greasy gits that preferred to punish someone for his father's sins rather than judge him on his own flaws and merits.

"Bloody git," he muttered contentiously under his breath, checking to make sure the great bat wasn't hovering over his shoulder when he said it, and then halted as he finally took notice of his surroundings and realized he'd missed his turn. Cursing his distraction, Harry spun on his heel and dragged his aching body back the other direction, disgruntled that this night just wouldn't bloody end.

He knew that as former enemy territory,he should be paying more attention to his surroundings, but he'd grown lax in the days after vanquishing the Dark Lout and his mind was miles away, much to his own detriment.

He was fairly certain that this detention wasn't a coincidence given the timing and the Slytherin involved; this had Malfoy's name written all over it. But the question that remained, was to what purpose? What did the Slytherin hope to gain by getting Harry into trouble with Snape? He knew that Malfoy'd had a brief conference with the Diabolical Duo – a.k.a. Parkinson and Zabini – those still in the commone room that night had informed him of that fact, but he didn't know what had been said due to Malfoy's _Muffliato_. But as it came right after their encounter in the greenhouse, Harry was certain the conversation had been about him.

Shivering slightly as a trickle of awareness tripped over his spine, Harry slowed his steps and looked around, with the uneasy feeling that he'd just walked through a ward of some type flooding over him. The feeling was unmistakable. It was like cobwebs brushing across his body, teasing his skin as he pushed through the barrier, but other than discerning no ill intent in the magic, he couldn't figure out its purpose. Licking his lips, he continued on hesitantly, knowing that a lot of security measures had been added to the castle during the rebuild, but a random ward, at the end of a random hall, made no sense.

And it made him wonder if it was Malfoy's handy work.

The man in question had been watching him for days, bright, grey eyes smouldering, and all but fucking him, in their molten intensity as they followed Harry from place to place. Several times they had hooded, sweeping over his body like a heavy-handed caress, as if Malfoy was imagining just what he wanted to do to Harry once he'd gotten his hands on him. It'd made Harry shiver in anticipation, a dark, breathless thrill curling in the pit of his gut, igniting the well of passion pooling there as he wandered the halls under that covetous gaze.

If only Draco, the bloody tease, would get on with it; the waiting was driving him mad.

Inhaling sharply when he heard the subtle crunch of gravel underfoot, from steps that didn't belong to him, Harry cursed his wayward thoughts, realizing a smidgen too late that he'd just jinxed himself. He should have known by now, that by stating that, even if only within the confines of his mind, he was inviting trouble; but one had to forgive his slow, sluggish thoughts after such a gruelling detention.

Heart pounding in his ears, now attuned to a familiar hum of magic hovering in the air around him, Harry quickened his pace, forgetting entirely in his rush that he had actually been praying for an end to their stalemate just moments before. Heading down the hall briskly, Harry licked his lips absently, the breath in his lungs hitching as he attempted to escape. Although he couldn't deny the pleasure he'd found in the Slytherin's arms, Harry had never been one to concede without a fight, and Malfoy would have to prove his worth.

Flinging a glance over his shoulder, Harry was nearing the end of the corridor when the attack came, and a hand struck out once again, yanking him into a room and pressed him quite firmly, face first, into the cool stone wall.

_The was becoming a bad habit._

Struggling slightly in Malfoy's long, firm arms, Harry gulped, his blood racing in anticipation as a firm, heavy, blazingly hot boy moulded against his back, shoving him further into the dungeon wall. Inhaling deeply, he coughed as the musty scent of mildew filled his nostrils, making him choke, and turned his head so that his cheek rested against the slightly damp wall, enabling him to breathe easier.

"Well, well, well, what have we here?" the silky voice drawled, eliciting an instant jolt of lust that shot straight to his cock when an equally stiff cock bored against his arse. Teeth caught at his lobe, a hot damp breath wafting over the shell of his ear as the Slytherin chuckled and rasped darkly. "A little, lone lion in snake territory? Did you get lost, Potter?"

"Sod off," Harry rasped harshly, bucking against the body holding him captive, but he'd only succeeded in amusing the taller boy and prompted him to sink against him, crushing him into the chilled wall as long, tapered fingers slid hotly over his flesh, leaving trails of fire in their wake. "You know damned well why I'm down here, seeing as you so graciously engineered my detention. Don't think I didn't figure you out, Malfoy."

That last little bit was a partial lie; true, he'd suspected Malfoy was up to something, but he hadn't exactly worked out the reasoning or seen this coming. Although, he really should have knowing the sneaky Slytherin as he did. Moaning in the back of his throat when Malfoy's hand slid over his thigh to cup his erection, squeezing and massaging it gently, Harry scrabbled at the wall for purchase, with the intent to push away (he was not one to sit by passively), but was quickly thwarted as Malfoy bound his wrists to the wall before he could move.

" _Draco_ , Harry, it's _Draco_ , as we're about to get very well acquainted," Malfoy teased softly, chuckling again when Harry huffed and yanked at his wrists, testing the veracity of his binds, and then pressed hot, wet kisses along his nape.

Harry gasped, his hands stilling their movements when Malfoy sucked on the skin above his rapidly thrumming pulse, melting under the blonde's lips as he reached down and yanked Harry's button-down shirt from the waist of his trousers. Breath hitching when hot, smooth hands slid under and up his shirt, making a beeline for his piercings, Harry cried out, jolting when fingers latched onto the bits of metal and tugged.

"Salazar," Draco murmured thickly, tugging again. "That's so hot. Always knew you'd be a screamer."

Biting back a cry of pleasure when Malfoy continued to pinch, play and manipulate the sensitive buds, Harry pressed back against the other boy, rubbing his arse against the deliciously hard cock there, and chuckled breathlessly when it had the desired affect, eliciting a helpless little noise from the back of Malfoy's throat. Hissing when fingernails raked over his chest, Harry pulled at his bounds and yelped when it prompted Malfoy to push back, shoving him unceremoniously back into the hard wall, fingers deftly working at his belt and his trousers button.

"Be glad I pulled you in here and didn't just take you over your potions desk," Malfoy rasped, his fingers slowing working the zip of his jeans down, the tips teasing his skin as the teeth slipped free. Harry groaned lowly at the image that flashed through his mind at those words. "Like that thought, do you? Me pushing you down over your desk, this beautiful arse arching beneath me as I slide my cock deep inside you, pounding into you so hard that your entire body jolts."

"Fuck..." Harry cursed, his cock growing painfully hard as Malfoy whispered those explicit, naughty words into his ear, the Slytherin's hands plunging into his trousers and pants and sliding them just over the curve of his arse as one broom-callused hand wrapped around his erection. "Draco...please..."

"Already begging, Harry?" Malfoy chuckled darkly, his hand smoothing along Harry's length, pumping lightly as he pressed his cloth-covered erection into the bared curve of Harry's arse, rubbing against the sensitive skin in tandem with his strokes. "Ah, that is music to my ears; but really, I'd prefer to hear you screaming my name instead."

Whispering the other boy's name fervently, Harry's eyes clenched, the lashes fluttering against his cheeks as he began to rut helplessly into Malfoy's hand and against the cock behind him alternatively, the flames in the pit of his groin erupting and flashing through his system like fiendfyre. Pleasure built at an alarmingly, and even embarrassing, rate, as Malfoy manipulated his flesh, the only thing assuaging his wounded pride being the fact that Malfoy was equally as affected, evident in the erratic breath and nearly soundless moans in his ear.

"Merlin...you're so fucking hot," Malfoy mumbled absently, speeding up his thrusts, both boys a little uncertain as to just who was in control at that moment; but then again, neither really cared as that blistering wave of lust built to a near painful level, threatening to overcome them at any time. "Say my name, Harry. Say it, and I'll make you come so hard, you'll be seeing stars for the rest of the night."

"Oh, fuck... _Draco_ ," Harry cried out, bucking into the blonde's hand for a final time, the words and action ripping his orgasm through him almost violently, the promised stars bursting across his vision as he continued to rock against Malfoy, riding out the ripples of bliss crashing over him.

"Fuck... _Harry_ ," Malfoy cried as he too lost himself in pleasure, a warm pulse against Harry's arse as he stilled and sagged against Harry's body for several long moments, attempting to regain his breath and balance. Winded, Malfoy pressed a light, sloppy kiss to Harry's temple and released his bonds, then lazily flicked his wand, cleaning the both of them before he tucked Harry back into his pants and did up his trousers.

Harry slowly turned, feeling lazy and replete, the lingering pleasure still singing in his veins as he watched the beautiful blonde though his lashes. There was so much that he wanted to say, and yet, nothing seemed adequate; nor did he want to interrupt the sweet languor that had subsumed them with questions of Malfoy...Draco's intentions. Sighing when Draco leaned in and kissed him chastely, Harry lifted his hand, running it through the slightly damp locks and opened his mouth, inviting a deeper connection.

Licking Harry's bottom lip, Draco took the invitation and deepened the kiss, sweeping Harry into a long, sweet, languid caress that had his heartbeat quickening and his toes curling in his shoes. Cupping Draco's face, Harry tangled his tongue with Draco's, enjoying the taste and play of lips, teeth and tongue as they slid together, intent on memorizing every little nuance of the other boy's mouth. Making a small noise of discontent when Draco pulled away, Harry looked up, green eyes clashing with a grey gaze filled with some unreadable emotion before he closed them again when Draco leaned down fo one last kiss.

And then, much like the first time Draco ambushed him, he was gone, his parting words no more than a whisper against Harry's lips.

"The quaffle's in your hands, Potter. Impress me."

... ... ...

Staring at the empty space in disbelief once again, Harry growled under his breath and set about righting his clothing, and then shoved his hands through his hair trying to neaten the mess Malfoy had made of it. The last thing he needed was to face the Inquisitional Squad - a.k.a. Ron, Hermione and Ginny, his well meaning, but far too nosy friends - with the evidence blatantly on his face, and body, especially after the questions that nice little love bite Malfoy had given him prompted. Thankfully, this time, the aggravatingly sexy blonde had placed his marks in easily hidden places.

Shivering as he touched one of the marks on the back of his neck, Harry shoved off the wall and stormed out of the room, not even bother to hurry because he knew that Malfoy was long gone. Probably up in their common room, or even more likely, already under wraps in his room, knowing the shifty, sly Slytherin as he did. Not that he had any right to complain; hadn't he done the same just a few days prior?

Smirking as he recalled his friends descriptions of Malfoy's annoyed countenance as he'd stalked into the common room after their encounter, only to find Harry mis, he climbed the stairs, making his way to the once forbidden third floor, which now, instead of housing psychotic, three-headed dogs, housed the eighth-year dorms. McGonagall said it made much more sense to seclude the returning, adult students, rather than attempting to cram them in the limited space of their former houses, as they were under different rules from the mostly underage, regular students.

Stalking into the common room, he cast a heated, cursory glance around the room, but as suspected, there wasn't a single strand of platinum blond hair anywhere within the shared space. Pursing his lips, he narrowed his eyes and turned towards the stairs leading to the boys dormitory rooms, missing the gleeful smirks tossed between the Diabolical Duo, yet not missing the questioning looks sent his way by the Inquisitional Squad. Hurrying up the stairs before certain people (read Hermione) could question his ruffled appearance yet again, Harry strode down the long corridor, pausing only when he he got to the room Malfoy shared with Zabini.

Studying the door thoroughly, he pulled out his wand and uttered a low incantation, whistling to himself when the door lit up a deep, violent purple. Those were some impressive wards Malfoy had erected - someone feeling a wee bit paranoid? Smirking to himself, he chuckled darkly and continued on to his and Ron's room, knowing there was no way he was going to get past those wards without real effort. And he wasn't up to it tonight after the long, exhausting detention he'd served. If that was the way Malfoy wanted to play it, then he was game.

He preferred waiting to get his revenge anyway.

It was, by far, much more satisfying, and thrilling, to watch the other boy sweat a bit, wondering just when Harry planned to pounce.


	4. Aphrodite's Splendour

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry seems to be ignoring Draco, but is he really?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **AN:** There is a bit where Draco calls Harry a "sneaky, manipulative, should-have-been-a-Slytherin, Gryffindor" which is a play on one of my favorite short stories by DigitalLace? Cheryl Dyson? I can't quite remember who, but it's in the story Veritaserum. His or hers was much longer, but it never failed to make me laugh.

Draco walked up the stairs to his room, feeling weary and out of sorts; it had been another week since his and Potter's encounter in the dungeons and he had expected the other man to have made his move by now. But other than looking rather pleased with himself at dinner that night, the infuriating Gryffindor had barely looked his way no matter how long and hard Draco had stared at him. He had to admire Potter's sense of resolve; he knew that if he had been on the other end of that stare, he'd at the very least would have been fidgeting (internally of course), if not occasionally glancing over his shoulder and returning said stare. But Potter had blithely continued eating his roast and conversing with his friends as if nothing was amiss, infuriating Draco.

He was certain this was Potter's newest attempt to crawl under his skin and drive him mad; and sadly it was working.

Potter's feigned indifference (it _had_ to be feigned, as _no one_ could ignore a Malfoy; it just _wasn't_ possible) had him on edge; even more so than when he had been centre stage to those predatory, bright green eyes. And he was also certain that this meant the scheming Gryffindor was plotting something big, but he couldn't fathom what it might be given Potter's recent spate of disinterest. Huffing his irritation, Draco entered his room and shut the door heavily – not slammed, as Malfoy's didn't slam doors; it was uncouth and therefore beneath them – just loud enough to announce his displeasure to recent events, missing the subtle blue shimmer that outlined his door for a split second.

When he had seen Potter's secretive smile at dinner, anticipation had filled him, burning through his veins in a sweet, dark, heady rush that had instantly made his body heat, his heart to race, and his breath to grow shallow and choppy. He knew that smile; had been on the end of it more times than he could count, and it always precluded some great mischief that Potter had instigated or had embroiled himself in. And given their little games of late, he'd automatically translated that to mean that Potter was finally going to make his move that night.

But the hours had slid away and nothing had happened; he'd even gotten up from his perch by the bookcases twice, purposefully secluding himself from everyone, and even went as far as to go for a bloody walk around the castle, but Potter hadn't budged from his place by the fire. In fact, the only indication he'd gotten that his smug little lion was paying him any mind at all, was the faint knowing smile that had touched his lips every time Draco had returned, all the while diligently working on his potions essay, completely impervious to Draco's disgruntled gaze.

It was maddening; and he had to know what that sneaky Leo was up to.

Growling under his breath, he stalked toward his wardrobe and pulled out a set of pyjamas, and then made his way into his and Blaise's shared bathroom to begin his ablutions, preparing for what he figured would be a long, restless night. Fucking Potter. He'd always managed to creep under his skin in one way or another from the moment that they'd met; he was sure the other man had been placed on this Earth for the sole purpose of aggravating him. He swore, that if Potter hadn't made his move by tomorrow, he was going to track down and corner the errant, manipulative prat and...And...And do _something_. He wasn't sure just what yet, but it would be brilliant, devious, and altogether satisfying.

Especially when he left the beautiful raven hot, hard, and begging for more.

Flicking his wand, he banished his used clothing to the laundry and stormed back into the other room, only absently noting that Blaise had yet to make an appearance despite the late hour. He couldn't help wondering if Pansy had finally caught a clue that the boy had been crushing on her since last year, and finally given into what he knew was inevitable. Rubbing his hand over his face, he crossed the room to his bed, and froze, startling when a ward brushed against his skin – one he hadn't erected. Scanning the room warily, he hated that his reaction was oddly similar to Potter's when he'd ran into the system of wards that herded the other man straight into his waiting arms.

But he couldn't imagine how Potter could have gotten past the wards on his door.

Draco's eyes were drawn back to his bed by a flash of light, breath stilling for a second when a letter appeared, sitting innocuously in the middle of his bed, and was secretly impressed. That was a complex piece of magic, to get the letter past his wards in one piece. Although, he didn't know why he was surprised that Potter could do it – one did not go around defeating Dark Lords without having learned a bit of complex magic. Staring at the square of parchment, he waved his wand over it, incanting a spell that would check it for jinxes, charms and curses, and furrowed his brow when it glowed a neutral white, indicating that in contained no magic of any kind.

Walking over to his bed, Draco picked up the note, snorting when he noticed the words, _'Read me'_ boldly written across it in Potter's distinctive, spiky scrawl, reminding him of a muggle tale he'd once read (right under his father's unsuspecting nose), about a girl who tumbled down a rabbit hole into another world. Flipping it over, he broke the seal and stared at the four rhythmic lines, and note, scrawled on it in puzzlement.

_A drop of me, is all you will need,  
To fulfil your deepest fantasies;  
Under Aphrodite's Resplendence,  
You can tease your lover from a distance._

_Enjoy the show, Malfoy._

_~HP_

Aphrodite's Resplendence...Aphrodite's Resplend... _oh, fuck_. He didn't. He couldn't have. He… _bloody_ hell.

Draco stared at the parchment, the words blurring slightly as shock ricocheted through his body, quickly replaced by a need and want so deep that it left him breathless. That sneaky, manipulative, should-have-been-a-Slytherin, Gryffindor – how in Merlin's name had Potter managed this? Moaning as ghostly hands slid over his chest, indicating that Potter had just taken a dose of the potion that would link their bodies, making Draco privy to his every touch, every caress; he slumped against the bed post, desperately fighting back heat crackling along his skin as the letter slipped from nerveless fingers.

Sinking to his bed, he startled when ropes sprouted from his bed and wrapped around his wrists and ankles, pulling him into a prone position and binding him to the four posts of his bed, another piece of magic that would have impressed him if he weren't too busy cursing devious Slytherins that disguised themselves as innocuous, chivalrous Gryffindorks. He and Potter were going to have a very long conversation when this was over. Gasping when hands slowly slid over his torso, tweaking one already firm nipple, Draco squirmed, testing his bonds much like Potter had, and instinctively knew that the other boy had bound him to the bed as revenge for his own stunt in the dungeons. Giving him a dose of his own potion, so to speak.

And while he knew that the restraints were meant to keep him in check, so he couldn't tease Potter back, he had to wonder if this was one of the not-so-Golden Boy's fetishes - something he definitely wanted to explore at a later date.

Draco grunted when those ghostly fingers continued to dance over his chest, and his lids slid shut as they flicked his nipples before pinching them sharply, sending a jolt of pleasure shooting down his spine in a straight line to his cock. Breath snagging in his chest, his heart pounding out a staccato rhythm, he gave himself over to Potter's ministrations - not that he had much of a choice. Inhaling sharply when he felt a finger swirl around the sensitive nub, teasing it to a peak, Draco could well imagine that it was Potter's tongue lapping at his skin like a cat, and that the sharp pinch at the end were the scraping of white, even teeth before it moved to its twin to inflict a similar delicious torment.

Moaning quietly, Draco jolted, fire racing along his oversensitive nerves as those fingers stopped teasing his now raw and aching nipples, and slid over his torso, slipping down over his abdominals and lower, fingernails scraping at the insides of his thighs. His breath hitched when he felt teeth sinking into his bottom lip, quickly followed by the slow flick of a tongue, and he knew that Potter had just bitten his own, soothing the resulting sting with a lick. Blood pounded through his body at that thought, undiluted lust screaming through his veins at the realization that Potter was nude and touching himself just as intimately, his cock likely as hard as Draco's.

Squirming as a drop of pre-cum leaked from said erection, Draco whimpered in the back of his throat, completely lost to the fingers, hands, teeth and tongue that held him in thrall, determined to taunt and tease and tantalize with light, ephemeral, bloody tormenting touches. Fingertips stroked along the insides of his thighs, and up over his groin area, completely avoiding the thing he most wanted touched - his aching, straining cock.

Bloody tease.

"Fuck, Potter," he growled aloud, struggling against his bindings, knowing that the other man couldn't hear anything he said (unless he'd set up surveillance charms, which, seeing as to how far he'd gone with his charm work with the wards and ropes and everything, that could very well be likely); but needing to vocally express his frustration nonetheless. "Fucking touch me already!"

Draco had only a brief second to wonder if Potter _had_ set up some sort of listening charm when long, callused fingers wrapped around his cock at the moment of his cry; but the thought was fleeting, and then it suspended completely as those fingers began to move, setting a slow, unhurried pace that drove Draco mental, and had him muttering darkly about teases that would pay dearly when it was his turn. The slow, steady burn that had been building at the base of his spine ignited under those talented, maddening caresses, eliciting a deep heartfelt groan of pleasure from the bound Slytherin's lips.

Gasping when the hand squeezed a bit tighter, bringing the grip just shy of painful, Draco bucked and unconsciously thrust his hips into that invisible hand, seeking more friction and grew frustrated when he couldn't force the spell to quicken Potter's pace. It was driving him spare, that slow, measured pace that slid against his flesh; heating it and making him burn, desperate for completion. Oh, yes, Potter was going to pay for this once he'd gotten his hands on him.

Shifting his hips, Draco's breath froze when a hand slid down, over his left thigh, slowly making its way over the outside of it, to the curve of his arse and then slid along the crack, teasing the skin in a soft, slow drag. Was Potter doing what he thought he was doing? Exhaling explosively when the pressure in his lungs became too much, Draco let out a helpless little moan and squirmed deliciously when that finger teased the edge of his furled skin, doing nothing more than circling and caressing it, but it was nearly enough to send him careening over the edge.

"Oh, fuck," he cried, back bowing when Potter's hand finally sped up, obviously done teasing Draco into a quivering mess. Throwing his head back against his pillow, he cried out Potter's name as his pleasure spiked, exploding over him with the power of a supernova and wave after wave of heat spilled over his flesh, cocooning him in a nebulous, drifting bliss.

Panting quietly, he whimpered when he felt a few more strokes against his sensitive skin, indicating Potter wasn't quite done, making his cock give a halfhearted twitch before the hand stilled and fell away, signaling Potter's own completion. Purring when the hands came back after a few seconds, easing over his sweat-soaked skin, and soothing his jumping nerves, Draco allowed himself to drift for a few blissful minutes, enjoying the light, tender caresses before the sensations halted.

Potter had taken the antidote.

… … …

Sighing, Draco grabbed his wand once the binds released and cast a cleaning charm over his body, and then climbed unsteadily to his feet. Grabbing his dressing gown, he made his way to the common room, only pausing in the hall long enough to cast a narrowed gaze at Potter's closed bedroom door. He knew there was no way that the other man could have pulled this off alone. Even if he had gotten past Draco's wards, he wouldn't have been able to do it without it registering his magical signature in them - which meant that someone with permission had let him in.

Plus, he had been paying far too much attention to Potter at dinner that night for the other man to have slipped him the potion. Further proof came in the fact that he had filled his own glass with juice tonight, eliminating house elf interference. And finally, none of the Potterphiles, outside perhaps Granger, who he couldn't see being party to this event, had a subtle, devious bone in their bodies, something necessary for pulling of this trick. That meant the potion came from someone much closer to him.

He smelled a silver and green rat - perhaps two.

Making his way down the stairs, he paused in the doorway and glowered at the two traitors, sitting on the couch by the fire and talking in low voices; all of a sudden, Blaise's absence made a lot more sense. His scowl deepened when their heads popped up and they had the nerve to smirk at his disheveled appearance. Smirked! Bloody traitors. Stalking over to his so-called friends, he came to a standstill in front of mildly amused Pansy and Blaise; leveling his best Malfoy glare on them, one that sent most people fleeing, fearful of their immanent demise, (but apparently had no affect on his chuckling friends…or Potters for that matter) and huffed in disbelief when they blinked innocently and gave him a bland smile. Like he believed that act.

"Which one of you did it?" he demanded when it became obvious that neither turncoat were going to offer up any answers on their own.

"Did what?" Pansy asked, all wide-eyed virtuousness, which just proved her culpability in Draco's eyes.

"Put the potion in my drink," he snorted, arching a brow when that still prompted no reaction. "I know it wasn't Potter - I had been watching him all evening, and he never made a move towards my drink. And there is no way that it was any of the Potterphiles as they lack the necessary subtlety and finesse to pull this off without my noticing. Everyone else is too terrified to face my wrath, so that leaves the two of you."

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Blaise smirked knowingly as he crossed his hands behind his head and leaned back into the couch, making Draco's eyes narrow with irritation.

"You will tell me, or I will…" he threatened, beginning to lose the hold on the thin reins of his temper.

"Oh, hush," Pansy snorted, rolling her eyes when he glared at her interruption, and continued with an unrepentant grin. "You will do nothing, as, from the look of things, you quite enjoyed yourself." Smirking when he flushed and looked away, and then self-consciously straightened his dressing gown, she pointed out the true problem in her usual shrewd, no-nonsense way. "Being a near potions master, you're just mad that you didn't think of it first."

And it was true; not that he'd ever admit to it.

"I have to admit, I'm reluctantly impressed," Blaise agreed, humming under his breath. "That was quite cunning of Potter; he made that potion right under your nose in our independent lab session today. You didn't even notice as you were too busy burning holes into his arse. At one time, I would have argued that the terms Gryffindor and cunning were an oxymoron, but he managed to outfox the snake."

"Actually, I heard a rumour, years back that Potter was nearly sorted into Slytherin," Pansy mused, snickering at Draco's flabbergasted expression. "I scoffed at the time, but now, I wonder if there is more truth to that rumour than I thought given his recent actions."

Potter?

A Slytherin?

That…that…actually made so much sense that he wanted to scream. No wonder he'd kept getting the better of Draco over the years, and managed to wiggle his way out of trouble time and again. Scowling at this new information, Draco tapped his fingers against his lips, wondering just what it was that he needed to do in order to capture his elusive lion-snake. Blowing out an exasperated breath, he shook his head and gave it up for the evening - he was far too tired and satiated to plot properly. Fixing his friends with a haughty glare, he pointed a finger at them, not about to forget their part in tonight's entertainment.

"You will…" he began, but was once again cut off by Pansy.

"Yes, yes, yes…we know… you will pay…blah, blah…torment…torture…blah," she mocked, arching a finely-groomed brow when he pursed his lips into a thin line. "We're trembling…truly.

Growling under his breath, he turned on his heel and left the room at a sedate pace, not giving them the satisfaction he'd given Potter earlier by storming away. He would deal with them eventually - there were many ways to deal with his faithless house mates, especially given a certain secret crush. But first, he had better things to do, like plotting how he was going to bring Potter to his knees.

In a most delicious and pleasurable way of course.

So, his lion-snake wanted to play games? Perhaps it was time to remind him who was the game master.


	5. Rules of Engagement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A seeker's game with a twist...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **AN:** While I'd like to say I was clever enough to think of the Seeker game on my own, I'm not. I recently read about it in the story Dragon Tamer by Jenavere and it just fit this version of Harry and Draco so well, that I couldn't help using the idea.

**Rules of Engagement**

Harry sat at the Gryffindor table, blocking out the chattering students around him, trying to decide what to do with his day. It was a Hogsmeade weekend, and most of his friends were discussing where they wanted to go and making plans to meet for lunch; he himself had several invites and people kept asking after his own plans, but Harry pretended not to hear. He wasn’t trying to be rude - far from it - he just knew how this would end - they’d all go in a group, fully intending to spend the day together and then one by one, the couples would break off, leaving Harry on his own. And while in most times he wouldn’t mind his own company, today was not one of those days.

It just served as reminder of his own loneliness.

Picking at his breakfast, he looked around the Great Hall, his eyes falling on a smug blonde, who was caught up in some sort of debate with Zabini and Parkinson, the three of them talking heatedly before Malf…Draco - he really should call him by his given name after all they’d done - turned away with a smirk, leaving the other two sulking in their breakfast. Harry laughed internally and wondered if he was still giving them hell for their part in his surprise last week; that Harry had not only managed to brew that potion right under Draco’s nose, and had it administered by his own friends’ hands (although, not without a hefty payment - they were Slytherins) was quite the coup. 

Licking his lips, he recalled all too well the heated look sent his way during breakfast the morning after; one that made him shiver as Draco’s eyes raked over him, as if the Slytherin were torn between hexing Harry into oblivion or pushing him on top of the table and fucking him in plain sight of everyone. Harry had met his hot gaze and quirked a brow, smirking as Draco strode over to his usual seat, and then stilled momentarily when Harry blew him a little kiss, ruffling his feathers just a touch more, bringing an adorable little scowl to his face.

It had been supremely satisfying; and he couldn’t wait to see what Draco dreamed up in retaliation.

Turning his head slightly, he continued to watch Draco from beneath his lashes, noting that the pleased smirk had deepened, taking on an edge of mischief; one reminiscent of Harry’s just the week before, and that made Harry slightly nervous. Nothing good could come from that smile. And he was certain that the blonde had something planned; but the question was - who was his intended victim, the Diabolical Duo or himself?

If it were himself, it would be just about the right time. Harry had noticed a pattern of five to seven days between their games and at six days hence, he knew that he was due. Something that became readily apparent as he caught a glimmer out of the corner of his eye, and his mouth dried, his breath coming in a soft, shallow pants as a majestic, eagle owl circled overhead once before imperiously dropping a letter near his hand and flew off with haughty disdain. As if delivering the letter to him was beneath the bloody bird’s notice. He only knew of one person that had that breed of owl, and judging by the smirk that quirked Draco’s lips, Harry knew exactly who sent the letter.

“What’s that?” Hermione asked curiously, snapping Harry out of his thoughts.

“Nothing,” Harry murmured, licking his lips and swallowing thickly, his heart picking up in pace as he reached for the note.

“Harry!” she hissed, causing him to look at her in confusion, understanding dawning when she continued. “You shouldn’t pick that up! Who knows what it might be!”

“Leave it, Hermione,” Harry said, waving her off negligently. “I’m expecting it.”

“But…” Hermione protested, raising her hand as if she were going to snatch the letter away, halting only when Harry pinned her with an irritated moue. Honestly, with the way his friends acted sometimes, people would believe he was completely incapable of caring for himself.

“Hermione,” he interrupted, sighing when she set her mouth into a disapproving frown that reminded him of McGonagall. “Do I pry into your every correspondence with Ron?”

“No, but what does that have to do with…” Hermione asked, exasperated, until he sent her a pointed look, causing his friend to flush as comprehension dawned. “ _Oh._ Oh, I see.”

“Yes,” he smiled thinly, feeling a bit peevish at her inquiry.

“I’m sorry, Harry,” she replied a little sheepishly. Harry nodded in acknowledgement, but he could tell that her incessant curiosity was eating away at her insides as she studied the letter thoughtfully. Thankfully she didn’t ask, as he wasn’t sure just what he would tell her about the letter writer‘s identity. He wasn’t quite ready to divulge anything about Draco‘s and his…relationship?

If one could call it that.

“It’s okay, Hermione,” he smiled, genuinely this time. “I know you worry, but please accept that I know who this is from and I’m not ready to discuss it. Not at this time.”

Hermione nodded and turned back to her breakfast, shelving the conversation for now as Ron slid into the seat next to her and they began to discuss their plans for the day. Harry tuned them out and opened his letter, his brows rising into his hairline and blood burning at the inscribed words. 

  
__I propose, if you choose  
A Seeker’s game with altered rules  
With you the golden quest  
This seeker’s skills put to the test  
If not caught by day’s done  
Your greatest wish you will have won  
If the reverse is true  
A suiting fate awaits for you

… … …

**Rules of Engagement**

**1.** No invisibility cloak, disillusionment spells, or any magic of any kind for that matter, to hide.

**2.** No usage of secret passages (I know you know some, Potter; don’t even try to deny it); you must stick to the common corridors and rooms of the castle only - that also means no Hogsmeade, no greenhouses, no Forbidden Forest, no Come and Go Room, no common rooms other than our own and definitely no hiding out in your own room.

**3.** No hexes/jinxes/charms to prevent capture during game play; you are to only use your own cunning (yes, I said cunning - I know you’re a closet Slytherin, Potter) and evasion tactics.

**4.** You get one hour reprieve at noon and 6 p.m. to eat, as you will need to keep up your strength for events to come if play goes that long.

**5.** Game play begins at ten and ends at midnight. 

… … …

_~ Scared, Potter?  
DM_

Harry smirked at the familiar taunt, recalling the way they faced off against each other during second year and flicked his eyes up to meet the challenge shining from grey depths, and mouthed. _‘You wish.’_

Glancing over at Hermione, he was thankful to note that she was now involved in a conversation with Neville about the properties of aconite, and how to best utilize it outside the Wolfsbane potion, and sighed with relief. Flicking his eyes back to Draco, he nodded once and stuffed the note into his pocket, hurriedly eating as he knew he had only twenty minutes reprieve before the hunt was on. The slow, sexy smirk he received in return sent a delicious shiver tripping down his spine, filling him with that dark sense of anticipation that came with each of their trysts.

This was certainly a different approach.

Usually Draco ambushed him without any warning, dragging him into a room or closet from the main corridors, giving him little chance to react or counter his move. That he spelled out the terms of the game so blatantly - well, he had to admit it was actually quite brilliant. Now Harry would spend the entire day looking over his shoulder, anticipating an attack, his mind torn between what might happen if he were to be caught, and what he might he gain if he weren’t; but his thoughts would always be on Draco nonetheless. 

Cheeky Slytherin bastard.

Quickly finishing his breakfast, he nodded at Hermione, not giving her a chance to ask him questions, and then swiftly made his way out of the great Hall, shivering as predatory eyes pressed into his back. Flicking a quick glance over his shoulder, his heart rate tripled as he caught a bright, burning, grey gaze and then lost himself in a crowd of milling students, mentally making plans for evading the devious Slytherin, only a small part of him wondering just what he’d gotten himself into.

… … …

It was an hour into the hunt, and Harry was out of breath, flushed and harder than he’d ever been, his cock pressing uncomfortably into the front of his jeans. And he was certain that he figured out Draco’s diabolical plan - by telling him of the chase in advance, he’d made certain that Harry’s movements were… hindered, due to certain conditions. Carefully peeking around a corner, he sighed in relief when he saw the corridor leading to the library was empty, and quickly made his way to it, slipping within the cool, quiet confines for a bit of a rest.

His stomach fluttered nervously as he passed students, each flash of blonde hair making him jolt until he confirmed it wasn’t one particular shade of platinum. It was maddening, knowing that Draco was literally hunting him, making his body tighten, twitch and burn with a far too obvious interest judging by the smirks he’d derived on occasion. Groaning at one such look, Harry made his way to the back of the room, certain it would give him a moment’s respite from the game, missing twin sly smiles and a nod from a petite blonde girl, who quickly penned a note and sent it on its way with a muttered spell.

Leaning heavily against the books, Harry was thankful of the shadows that fell over him, obscuring him from prying eyes, as he didn’t feel up to explaining why he was hiding in the library. Letting his eyes slide shut, he inhaled deeply, stiffening just a touch when the familiar scent of citrus and something woodsy tickled his nose. Eyes popping open, Harry’s breath hitched when he felt a familiar wave of magic shift within his vicinity, the sensation washing over his body and leaving it tingling with awareness. Narrowing his eyes, Harry held his breath, his heart beating staccato, and a trickle of sweat snaking down his back as he heard a telltale shuffle of steps a couple of shelves down.

“I know you’re here, Harry,” Draco taunted, pitching his voice to carry, but low enough not to garner attention. Swallowing harshly, Harry cursed under his breath when his cock gave an unhelpful twitch, stiffening further when a soft, silky chuckle filled his ears. Fuck. That laugh always made his insides burn and clench.

Harry kept quiet, not about to give away his position. Maybe if he were completely still Draco wouldn’t have a clue of his direction.

“I can smell you, you know,” Draco continued in that same low voice that made heat pool in his groin, caressing things it shouldn’t have the ability to touch. “Apples… rain… and this sweet, almost grassy, scent that I can never quite define, but is entirely intoxicating. Really, Harry, with all the times we’ve been… up close and personal, you would think you’d realize I’d know when you’re near.”

Fuck. He hadn’t thought about that. 

He wondered if it were too late to cast a scent dampening charm. Likely, as while it might dampen it now, his scent would still linger in the air unless he also cast an air-fresh charm; and that would be breaking the rules that he’d agreed to before they’d begun. Stepping carefully, he slid along the bookcases, slipping further into the shadows as those distinctive footsteps drew nearer. Keeping his eyes anchored in the direction of the footsteps, Harry slid around a corner and then turned, nearly jumping out of his skin when someone laughed almost right against his ear. Whipping his head around, he cursed fervently as grey eyes met his from no more than four feet away.

“Gotcha!” Draco chortled triumphantly.

Draco’s lips curled into a smug smile; one that had the butterflies in Harry’s stomach dancing around like mad as he backtracked rapidly and slammed against the bookcase behind him, making it creak. Licking his lips nervously, Harry watched with wide-eyed trepidation as Draco stalked closer, slowly, drawing out his steps as if he were enjoying his nemesis’ titillated fear, and could only praise whichever benevolent deity that had been watching over him when a cool, no-nonsense voice carried down the row of books just as Draco reached out to grab him.

“Just what do you two think you are doing?” Pince asked waspishly, fixing them both with an evil glare as she stormed towards them. “You had better not be fighting in my library.”

“Not at all, madam,” Harry reassured, grinning like a demon when Draco scowled and pulled back, obviously irritated that they had been interrupted. “In fact, I was just leaving.”

Harry saluted Draco and then slipped around the corner, thankful for the woman’s obsessive regard for the books she kept as he slipped into the main walkway, her voice ringing through that section as detained Draco long enough for Harry to make his escape.

“Oh, no you don’t Mr. Malfoy. I’m not letting you continue this in the halls.”

Bless that woman. He had to find her a suitable thank you gift.

… … …

Harry walked into Great Hall warily, his eyes scanning the room in search of his blonde tormentor as he headed to the Gryffindor table for lunch; he knew that Draco had said that he had an hour at noon to eat, but he wasn’t holding his breath. Draco had been known to break the rules when it suited him and Harry wasn’t going to leave his guard down no matter their agreement. Giving another cursory look, Harry sighed and relaxed minutely as he realized that the blonde was nowhere to be seen. He had purposely waited until half past the hour in the hope that he’d miss the smug bastard, who was likely smarting from the verbal lashing he’d gotten from Pince and Harry wasn’t all that certain he wanted to be anywhere near the Slytherin at the moment.

Sitting down, Harry filled his plate and had taken his first bite when a flash of platinum caught his attention as Draco entered the room and sat at the Slytherin table, and Harry was thankful for McGonagall’s foresight of keeping the eighth years in their house groups for meals. He wasn’t certain what he might do if Draco were sitting across from him, or worse, next to him, breathing down his neck, and potentially within snogging distance. Their game was having a severe reaction in Harry’s body, and he was a bit worried that he might give in if Draco were within arms reach.

Making quick work of his food, Harry blatantly ignored the gaze that slid over him like a heated caress, stroking at those invisible things inside him again, eliciting a surge of white-hot lust that careened through his system. Fighting back the urge to simply go up to the Slytherin and snog him senseless, ending the game, Harry waited until Draco was distracted by a housemate, and then stood, quickly scurrying out of the room. Perhaps he could use the remaining minutes for a quick wank instead.

… … …

Harry stormed away from his chosen bathroom, his fabulous wank session interrupted by a nosy, deviant teenage ghost, who was far too interested in Harry’s activities for his comfort. Drawing a quick breath, he grumbled under his breath, stalking down the hall in a fine temper, wondering just why McGonagall hadn’t yet banished the little perv from the building. Or at the very least, found a way to confine her to the girls’ bathrooms. Honestly, having his perfectly good wank ruined by a voyeuristic ghost did nothing for Harry’s raging libido. Although, he supposed he did have to thank Myrtle - his problem was definitely not a problem any longer.

Huffing to himself, he walked down the hall and then froze as he caught sight of a smirking Slytherin, leaning negligently against the wall with a knowing smile pasted on his lips. Narrowing his eyes, he watched in disbelief as Draco shook an admonishing finger in his direction and suddenly Myrtle’s little visit took on new meaning. Draco couldn’t interfere himself per his own rules, but that didn’t limit outside interference. He’d bet that Draco hadn’t even suggested she interrupt, but merely mentioned that Harry was in the bathroom and that would have been more than enough incentive for Myrtle. That sneaky, underhanded, bratty, pain in the arse…

“Do you know what time it is, Potter?” Draco drawled, startling Harry into glancing at his watch, and he cursed when he noted that it was two minutes past one, and play had recommenced.

“Fuck,” he muttered, hastily backing up a few paces and glancing around with an edge of a panic as he sought a way out of his predicament.

“Not quite yet,” Draco promised with a predatory grin. “But soon.”

“Not bloody likely,” Harry huffed, scrambling out of reach of the blonde’s grasping hands and cursing the distraction that had led him here. He should have known something was afoot when Myrtle had shown up out of nowhere, in a bathroom she didn’t typically haunt. She was much more partial to the Prefect’s Bathroom. “You actually have to _catch_ me first, Malfoy.”

“Now, now, now, _Potter,_ ” Draco replied silkily, a sly smile touching his lips as he closed the distance between them. “Just where do you think you can go?”

And that was a great question, really. 

He could run back the other way, but Draco would be on him in two steps due to his height. And he couldn’t very well go swanning past him; that would just be begging to get caught. And while he might be able to get behind closed doors, he certainly didn’t want to find himself trapped in any of the rooms lining the hallway - after all, he had to emerge at some point, and he doubted Draco would walk away from such temptation. He was utterly fucked.

And then, for the second time that day, the Gods smiled upon him as McGonagall came into view. Really, he had to have some benevolent deity standing guard because his own luck only took him so far. Staring at his former head of house as she was the only oasis in the midst of a vast desert plain, Harry smiled and cried out in delighted surprise, “Professor!”

Draco halted, grimacing as he was once again foiled by an instructor’s interference. 

“Did you need something, Mr. Potter?” McGonagall asked, eyeing the two boys with bland curiosity, seeming a bit surprised at their combative stances given the fact that neither of them had caused much upset that year. But Harry was completely oblivious to her question as Draco’s expression promised him all sorts of wicked, sinful things, sending a frisson of electricity dancing across his nerves, making him flush with desire. Licking his lips, Harry’s breath hitched, and his pupils dilated when Draco mimicked the action, leaving his lips wet and glistening in the low light. “Mr. Potter?”

“Oh…um…I…” Harry stammered, tearing his gaze from Draco to the headmistress. Flushing even hotter when she quirked a brow at his odd behavior, Harry squirmed under her gaze, desperately hoping that his renewed erection wasn’t visible. Draco grinned at his obvious discomfort and began to saunter nonchalantly down the hall. “No, sorry, it’s nothing, Professor.”

“Is Mr. Malfoy giving you problems?” she queried, eyeing Draco with a frown.

“No!” Harry exclaimed, bringing her gaze back to him, causing his flush to deepen even further when she studied him thoughtfully and a keen understanding filled her eyes. Great. That was all he needed. “I mean, it’s fine…we’re just…um…we’re fine.” Harry glanced back at Draco, shivering in appreciation when he once again licked his lips slowly and then threw him a tiny kiss over his shoulder, sucking all the air from his lungs as Harry scrambled away, squeaking out as he left. “Gotta go.”

Harry scurried down the hall, wanting to put a healthy distance between him and a certain blonde, knowing that Draco wouldn’t be that far behind, and nearly died of mortification as he heard McGonagall walk off, muttering under her breath.

“Whatever happened to the nice, normal courtships of old…?”

… … …

Harry pelted down the hall, running around a corner in the hopes of outrunning the predator intent on his trail. He had thought that by hanging around Trelawney’s tower, Draco would never think to look for him here. Everyone was aware of what Harry thought about divination and prophecy, having been the focal point of one his entire youth; the divination tower was the last place people would search for Harry - which is likely why Draco had come there, deftly foiling Harry’s attempt to remain elusive.

Cursing that telltale flash of platinum when he glanced over his shoulder, Harry slipped around a corner and ran into a dead end, sending his panic and ire that he had effectively boxed himself in rising to knew heights - the only way out now was to either turn back or go up. And judging by the rapidly approaching footsteps, going back the other way was a folly. Reacting instinctively, Harry began to climb the ladder to Trelawney’s classroom, hoping against hope that he’d find somewhere to hide in that nauseatingly overblown tea room until Draco gave up. 

A long shot he knew, but he really had not other choice.

Creeping silently around the room, Harry scanned it before swiftly making his way to the far wall and slipped into the shadows, pressing himself deep into the cool stone just as he heard the almost triumphant clomp of boots and a wicked laugh coming up the ladder. Biting his lip to keep from whimpering, Harry swallowed thickly, his breath hitching inaudibly as Draco’s head popped into view. Clenching his fingers, Harry frantically tried to think of a way out of his predicament and couldn’t come up with a damned thing - being dinner time, there would be no interference from others and he wasn’t about to attempt climbing out the window. In short, he was doomed.

“Nowhere to run now, _Harry_ ,” Draco drawled gleefully as he stepped lightly into the room, fervent silver eyes running greedily over the room, like a hawk seeking prey, and Harry barely bit back a moan of want as heat filled his belly, making it twist and burn and clench. A small, smug smile slid over the blonde’s lips, eliciting a fine tremor of need throughout Harry’s body as he sing-songed. “Come out; come out, wherever you are.”

Harry’s cock jolted to awareness at the tone, making him gasp softly as it pressed uncomfortably into the zip of his jeans and renewed his mental cursing when the tiny sound drew Draco’s eyes to his hiding place. Sinking his teeth further harshly into his bottom lip, Harry watched in fevered anticipation, a trickle of sweat running along his spine as Draco’s smile broadened, displaying a predatory flash of teeth a Draco stalked across the room. Licking his suddenly parched lips, Harry swore under his breath, bringing another silky chuckle from his nemesis, and made a rash decision - despite the utter futility of it, once Draco was close enough, he’d make an attempt to escape.

Better that than to stand by and passively wait for capture.

Waiting until Draco was only a few feet away, Harry launched himself away from the wall, hoping that the sheer force of their colliding bodies would knock the other boy off balance enough for Harry to slip around him and down the steps to freedom. But Draco must have anticipated the like, as he had his feet firmly planted and the blow barely rocked him, and instead knocked Harry off centre as two arms wrapped around him with a seeker’s swiftness, sending them hurtling towards the ground. 

“Gotcha,” Draco crowed triumphantly, firing off a quick enlargement charm on the nearest garish pillow, making it expand to an almost five-foot square, cushioning their fall. Harry cried out as they impacted, squirming against the boy at his back as Draco rasped hotly against his ear. “And Malfoy catches the snitch. Slytherin wins.”

“Fuck,” Harry cursed fervently, bucking against Draco, but the Slytherin had him pinned but good and no amount of wriggling would dislodge him. In fact, it just seemed to excite and encourage the other boy. Harry groaned and slumped against the surprisingly soft cushion when a hot, hard cock pressed into his arse, knowing without a doubt that he was caught this time.

“No, not yet,” Draco whispered, sinking his teeth into the lobe of Harry’s ear, eliciting another heartfelt groan of defeat from his captive as hands wandered the length of Harry’s body, making his blood heat and his body trembled with desire even as he swore violently under his breath. Chuckling at Harry’s grousing, Draco pressed him further into the makeshift bed and promised in a low, forceful tone. “But definitely something along those lines.”

Harry’s breath hitched at those words, lust drunk as Draco deftly flipped him over and pinned him firmly to the pad with his own body, settling it firmly between Harry’s thighs. Moaning low in the back of his throat when Draco pressed into him, hip to hip, and cock to cock, Harry scrambled for hold and grasped Draco’s hips, his fingers clutching into the soft skin as he helplessly bucked into that inviting heat. Fuck, he was already so turned on by their game that he doubted he’d last more than five minutes.

“Look at you,” Draco husked beside his ear, fevered silver eyes sliding hungrily over Harry’s prone form, sending yet another frisson of excitement dancing over his nerves, making him nearly incoherent with a passion so deep, he thought he just might die from the sensation. Especially when Draco answered his initial thrust with a slow, sinuous roll of his own hips, drawing a tiny cry of need past Harry’s lips. “So beautiful, spread out beneath me. Been dreaming of this for weeks.”

Harry never got the chance to respond as lips crashed into his, and Draco’s tongue swept demandingly past his, and curled around his own. Humming in pleasure as Draco explored his mouth thoroughly, Harry tugged at the other boy’s shirt, and hastily pulled it from his trousers, and slid his hands up underneath to trace Quidditch-toned muscles, needing more skin, more pressure, more everything.

Laughing softly against Draco’s lips when his explorations extracted a mewl of need from his captor, Harry startled, and then sighed when that talented mouth suddenly ripped away from his and Draco tore at his shirt, desperately trying to divest it.

“Need to see that tattoo,” Draco muttered, stripping that last of Harry’s shirt from his body, revealing the red and gold snake Harry hadn’t gotten on a whim that past summer, as a reminder of and a way of embracing the two house that dominated his personality. “Been driving me mad.” 

Harry froze as Draco stared down at him, breath stilling in his lungs as he realized that this was the first time either of them had been even partially nude in front of the other outside the Quidditch locker room, and he couldn’t help feeling a bit insecure. Licking his lips as soft, smooth fingers traced the head of the snake, which draped over his shoulder to curl around his upper bicep, with the rest of the body coiling down his side, Harry fidgeted uneasily, wondering what the other boy was thinking.

“Beautiful,” Draco murmured, before placing a gentle kiss on Harry’s shoulder, loosening the small ball of fear that had built in his gut during the drawn out silence.

Quickly divesting himself of his own shirt, Draco pressed their chests together; bare skin sliding against bare skin as he once again captured Harry’s mouth in a heated snog. Gasping softly, Harry parted his lips and allowed the other boy to deepen the kiss as he grasped Draco’s hips, digging in his fingers almost painfully, and drawing an answering noise from Draco as he snaked one hand between them, exploring Harry with feather light caresses. Groaning when Draco unbuttoned his denims and slowly slid his zip down, Harry moved to reciprocate, but was just as swiftly rebuffed.

Frowning slightly, he moved away to ask the blonde why he’d pushed his hand away, but was stalled when a deft hand reached into his trousers and pulled his erection from his pants, then slid along the stiff length. And then all thought flew from Harry’s mind when Draco quickly reciprocated on himself, quickly pulling himself from his trousers and pressing their bare cocks together, wrapped his hand firmly around both.

“Oh. Oh, Merlin,” Harry breathed as Draco began to work their flesh, stroking it together with the little help of some conjured lube. Rocking his hips, he moaned as his cock slid along Draco’s in a sensuous motion that made his blood rush explosively through his veins. “Not…not going…to last.”

“Me neither,” Draco rasped, gurgling when Harry’s grip tightened painfully on his hips, pulling him closer as he thrust against that sinfully beautiful body. “Fuck. Harry…you’re so…feel so good.”

Harry wrapped his thigh around Draco’s hip, forcing him to relinquish hold on his and Harry’s erections, but never disrupted the undulation of their hips, which continued to rock in tandem. Slick flesh and rough material rubbed and scratched together in a delicious friction that should have been painful, but instead only added to the intense pleasure. A frantic need and heat overtook Harry, bursting like several nuclear explosions, leaving him scrambling for hold as his orgasm ripped through him.

“Draco…” He cried out hoarsely, tipping his head back into the garishly designed pillow, baring his throat to the Slytherin, who latched his teeth into it as he came too, Harry’s name on his lips.

Panting as Draco whispered a quick spell that cleaned and righted their pants and trousers, Harry tensed, waiting for the inevitable moment that Draco would pull away and disappear as he done all the previous times. But instead Draco merely laid back down on top of Harry, humming in gratification and tucked his face into the crook of Harry’s neck when he wrapped a hesitant arm around the blonde’s waist. They laid there, basking in the afterglow, for who knows how long, exchanging soft, languid kisses intermittently, before Harry finally gave into the sleepy pull of his body and drifted off to sleep.

… … …

Harry jolted awake, slightly chilled and looked around the room, uncertain as to what woke him and why he was lying, shirtless, in Trelawney’s tower, until it all came rushing back to the forefront of his mind. Frowning deeply, he noted that Draco was missing, and judging from the cool space next to him, had been gone for some time. Sitting up, he spied his shirt, neatly folded beside him, with a folded piece of parchment sitting innocuously on top. Picking it up, he slowly opened it, a sharp noise of discontent sounding in the back of his throat as he read the words –

_Great game, Potter. ~ DM_

Slumping against their makeshift bed, Harry stared at the paper almost incomprehensively, befuddled at the strange turn in his and Draco's relationship, if you could even call it that, wondering what to make of the words. A part of him enjoyed the illicit, hidden nature of his trysts – the fevered kisses, the game of cat and mouse, with them all but stalking each other across the school, dreaming up new ways to tease and tantalize each other. With the media in his face, it was nice to have a secret. But, yet another tiny part of him couldn't help feeling a bit wary, recalling the emptiness he had felt this summer with his fleeting relationships and, truthfully, the lack of fulfilment when it came to those casual encounters and feared jumping into something similar with Draco.

Not that he felt that way – quite the opposite really. Even the few encounters they'd had were fraught with more emotion than his longest relationship ever; and he and Draco had always been passionate about one another, even when they were rivals. But he had no clue what this meant to the other boy; was it just a game to amuse himself until the end of the school year, or was there some greater design?

Touching his still tingling lips thoughtfully, Harry wasn't sure which scenario he wanted it to be; did he want nothing but a sexy, fun game to ease the stress and tension of their NEWTs year, or did he want more? And what would he do, how would he feel if this was nothing to Draco? A brief stab of discontent stabbed him in the heart at that thought and Harry sighed, a shudder racking his body as he shoved his hand through his hair and then climbed off the bed, pulling on and straightening out his clothing before he ended the transfiguration spell, turning the bed back into that violently bight puff Trelawney favoured. Then pulling his invisibility cloak out of his pocket, he enlarged it and tossed it over his head.

The eighth-years didn't have a set curfew, being of age for the most part, but he wouldn't put it past Snape to be a git about it if he found Harry wandering the corridors.

Sighing quietly to himself, Harry left the room and walked down the hall, setting a path that would take him, not to his common room, but to the lake instead, needing some time to put his confused, scrambled thoughts in some semblance of order before heading for his bed. He just didn’t know where he stood with Draco, or what he wanted, and until he had concrete answers to the questions rambling around his head, it would probably be better if he halted these little games for now, before one of them inadvertently got hurt.


	6. Rules are Meant to be Broken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco is a little nervous at Harry's silence. Has the Gryffindor tired of their games? Not likely.

****

Rules are Meant to be Broken

Draco stared blankly at his textbook, absently tapping his quill against a length of parchment, others strewn across his lone table in the library, and attempted, for what felt like the hundredth time, to rein in his wayward thoughts. He was trying to study for his end of the term exams, just one week hence before they broke for the winter holidays, but it was all for naught. His brain insisted wearing a never-ending track to a certain elusive Gryffindor, whom had been acting oddly for the past two weeks. Well, odd even for him - Harry was hardly the epitome of normal on the best of days, but lately, he had been weird even by his standards. And silent - uncomfortably, and unusually, silent.

Draco had tried to reassure himself that Harry’s behaviour wasn’t cause for concern; after all, the entirety of the eighth-year had been feeling pressed for time due to the normal deluge of term papers, projects and exams that marked the beginning of December. In fact, he had seen for himself that Granger had been acting like a crup with a bone when it came to her study schedules and making sure her victims…er…Harry and the Weasel, adhered strictly to them. It was, frankly, quite terrifying how the two men jumped to her tune with nothing more than a well-placed glower. 

It made him wonder if he had feared the wrong person of the trio all these years. Harry had always been his main concern, but based on the wary looks her own friends shot her on occasion, he felt faintly relieved he managed to escape with only a bruised jaw in third year.

Not that he blamed Harry or the Weasel for quelling to her whims. Having been on the other end of Pansy’s wrathful glare multiple times, he understood why they skirted Granger like a rampaging hippogriff when she launched one of her NEWTs rants. Imagining the combination of Pansy’s fertile, devious mind, compounded with Granger’s own scary, unparalleled intellect, he shuddered at what punishment such breeding grounds could produce if they had failed to capitulate. Females, on their own, were scary enough - intelligent females, bent on vengeance, were petrifying.

Not that he’d admit that to either Pansy or Granger’s face - did he look like a Gryffindor? No, that was a secret he held close to his heart, and he dreaded the day they pooled their efforts and ganged up on all of them; that is, if he and Harry worked out as he planned. The world would never be safe from those equally brilliant, wily, bloody frightening minds.

But he digressed.

Despite knowing there was ample reasoning for Harry’s current reticence, he had also noted, that for all that the raven had continued to watch Draco; he never went anywhere alone these days. Whether it was by default due to the time of year or by design remained to be seen. It was almost as if…well, almost as if Harry were purposefully avoiding him. And that thought unsettled him greatly. During the first week of silence, he hadn’t put much by it, knowing that it wasn’t uncommon for several days to pass between their encounters and he believed Harry to be plotting his next move. But as the second week closed, he’d begun to worry that he had committed some unknown faux pas the last time they’d played.

Although just what, he couldn’t begin to fathom.

True, they had been a bit rougher and desperate this time around, as one would expect after spending bloody hours in anticipation. Draco couldn’t hold back his excitement, and hadn’t really been concerned with finesse once he’d finally landed his prey; as it were, it had taken everything he had not to simply rip Harry’s clothing from his body. But rather than putting him off, the hurried actions only seemed to enflame Harry at the time and there had been plentiful evidence that he had been similarly worked up by their game. He’d had bruises on his hips for nearly a week as proof.

Not that he’d minded. He could have easily healed them had he wanted. It was a simple charm, and one he’d used judiciously in the past. But there had been something primitively satisfying in knowing that Harry had lost enough of his fine-tuned control to mark him.

Of course, it could have been what happened after…

He hadn’t intended to stick around that night, worried that if he gave into the need to cuddle with the Gryffindor, it would place far too much of his heart on display. He had heard some rumours this summer, that spoke of Harry’s activities and how the relationships, if they could be called that, had lasted mere weeks. And he hadn’t wanted to scare Harry off by appearing too needy. But he couldn’t help it - Harry had looked so delicious lying there, flushed and rumpled, those bright green eyes filled with sleepy pleasure that he couldn’t make himself leave. He had needed just a bit more time with the intoxicating raven and only left once he was certain that Harry was sleeping soundly.

Shaking off his troubled and unhelpful thoughts, Draco swiped at the back of his neck impatiently, rubbing the nape to shunt away the bug or string that had been tickling him for the past minute; a feather-light touch that reminded him all too well of Harry’s caresses, sending a small shudder down his spine. Like he needed any other reminders when his brain was all too willing to play the scenes back to him in an endless looping stream. Looking over his shoulder, he frowned when he met with empty space and huffed, and turned back to attempt focusing on his essay once again.

And failed miserably, his thoughts stubbornly returning to Harry.

Perhaps he shouldn’t have left. 

After all, he knew it irritated him to wake up and find an empty bed when he very well knew that it had been filled when he’d fallen asleep. Leaving, in a misguided sense of self-preservation, likely hadn’t been his wisest move, but waking up to an uncomfortable Harry, who wouldn’t meet his eyes and silently wondered why Draco was still there, would have broke him. He knew that many people considered him to be cool, calm and unflappable - an ice prince he’d heard whispered on occasion - but that was far from the case. He just knew how to hide his emotions better.

Running a hand over his hair, he sighed inaudibly, and froze when he felt what he thought was a warm puff of air near his cheek. Licking his lips, Draco closed his eyes and focused on that warm, damp breath as it traced a path over his jaw, making his own breathing hitch almost painfully as he clenched his hands into loose fists and another slow, luscious shiver tripped over his spine.

“Harry?” he breathed softly, his stomach swirling when he heard what he thought was a low laugh, but then shook his head in disgust, shrugging the sensation off when his phantom never materialized. Huffing in annoyance at his behaviour, Draco stood stiffly and stalked towards the back of the library, figuring his time was better spent seeking the much needed book to finish his paper than wasting his time contemplating the Gryffindor mentality.

“Merlin, now I’m imagining things,” he muttered under his breath as he found the appropriate aisle and started down it. “Brilliant.”

Slipping into a dark corner, Draco studied the row of books, almost vainly hoping that the tome he sought would still be there and some enterprising Ravenclaw hadn’t already confiscated it in their mad dash to liberate anything of worth for the remainder of the term. His topic was esoteric, only discussed amongst those who were seriously pursuing a potions mastery, but that rarely meant a thing to Ravenclaws - they grabbed anything that even remotely resembled interesting reading and hoarded the books like squirrels planning for a long, hard winter.

Tracing his fingers along the spines, Draco let out a small cry of triumph when he came across the desired text and swiftly pulled it from the shelves with a quick look around, almost as if he expected a rabid badger to come scurrying out of the woodwork and filch his treasure if left unguarded. Laughing lightly at his actions, he shook his head and focused on the book, and was opening it when the air around him shifted, charging with an almost electric hum as he realized he was no longer alone.

Stilling almost instantaneously, he swallowed and glanced through his lashes, excitement surging through his body as he noted the subtle shimmer of a disillusionment or concealment charm in the air next to him - like that of an invisibility cloak. And there was only one student he knew that had one of those. Dipping his head to hide the smirk blooming on his face, Draco inhaled deeply, his head spinning as the scent of apples and rain and that elusive spice that screamed _‘Harry_ ’ filled his nose .

He easily got lost in that fragrance.

Breath and heart rate accelerating, Draco blindly flipped through the pages, all too aware of the presence at his side, a part of him miffed it had been so long and the other breathless with anticipation. He wasn’t certain what game the Gryffindor was playing, but he hoped he got to it soon. Which the minx happily obliged in the next breath. 

Letting out a low moan when a warm, hard body pressed into his back, Draco closed his eyes and pressed back in welcome, tilting his head just the slightest when arms wrapped around his waist and lips ghosted against the side of his neck, nipping at the fluttering pulse at its base. Flushing hotly, Draco let out a surprised little noise when hands slid up over his chest and pinched his nipples lightly before he was unceremoniously shoved deeper into the shelf in front of him.

“Bastard,” he huffed, snorting when all he got was a quiet chuckle for his censure and a renewal of those teasing caresses.

“You know you like it,” Harry husked, teasing his lips against the shell of his ear, bringing with him that intoxicating blend of smells that made his head swim and left him wanting. Biting the inside of his cheek as a hard length pressed against his arse, Draco scrabbled at the shelving for purchase, the tome sliding from nerveless fingers and dropping unchecked to the floor in the process. “Just admit it.”

“Yes,” he whispered, jolting as another chuckle filled his ear, and he coloured a little at the noises that tumbled out of the back of his throat as Harry sunk his teeth into the lobe and unhurriedly slid his hands over Draco’s chest and down his abdominals, relentlessly trekking for something lower.

“Knew it; dirty, little Slytherin,” Harry crowed quietly, teasing his lips down the side of his jaw, dispersing warm, wet kisses and nips of blunt, white teeth as his hands came to a rest on his waistband, drawing out another moan past Draco’s lips. “Makes me wonder what you’d be like bound to my bed, writhing, wanton, and helpless beneath my every touch. Bet you’d look spectacular, all flushed and hard, waiting for my next move.”

“Fuck,” Draco muttered, squirming against that invisible body and prayed that no one heard him and came looking; the last thing he needed was curious, prying eyes noticing him pinned to the shelves by an invisible assailant, hard and panting instead of reading up on potions as he told his friends.

“We could do that,” Harry murmured agreeably, sliding his hands down over his thighs, and then back up, allowing his fingers to feather over his cock on the way up, setting his nerves aflame. “But perhaps… not here. And I do want you _here_ and _now_.”

Draco nearly choked on his own saliva; his body instantly heating at those words and his cock perked up with more than a healthy interest, making the boy behind him groan heartily when he felt Draco’s prick stiffen further. Smirking mischievously, Draco pressed his arse back into the cradle of Harry’s hips and gave a deliberate roll, relishing the breathy gasp against his ear for a moment before hands sharply spun and pressed him back into the shelves, leaving him scrabbling blindly. Searching it for a telltale shimmer, Draco grumbled when he couldn’t find the elusive lion.

“A disillusionment charm, Harry? Not very sporting of you. Weren’t those against the rules?”

“Rules are meant to be broken,” Harry smirked, shimmering into existence as he pressed back into his body, bringing a low strangled sound to his lips as their hips ground together. “Besides, those were _your_ rules, not _mine._ ”

Draco barely managed another huff of breath as Harry captured his mouth, teasing his bottom lip with a swipe of his tongue, enticing Draco to part his lips. Opening his mouth to the invasion, he tried to keep his moans low and subdued as talented hands tracked relentlessly over his body, teasing and taunting, enticing, making heart pulse, his breath to catch and the blood in his veins to rush and turn molten. Sliding a hand into thick, dark locks, he tugged, whimpering as Harry pulled away to blaze a fiery path down his throat, nipping and sucking greedily at the skin, whispering hotly. 

“Unless you want to cause a scene beautiful, I recommend raising a _Muffliato_ and a Notice-Me-Not. Otherwise, anyone venturing in this section will get a bit more _education_ that they bargained for…”

Letting out a groan so low it could be mistaken for a breath, Draco pulled out his wand and quickly erected the suggested wards, unaware of the startled brown eyes that were now trapped within their little bubble. Dropping his wand carelessly to the floor, Draco shoved his hands back into that wild thatch of curls and inhaled sharply when Harry reciprocated in kind, tugging his head back and attaching his lips to Draco’s throat once more, feasting on it so voraciously, he was certain there would be a lovely string of red and purple marks come morning. Humming in pleasure, he tore the Gryffindor away and dove into his warm, taunting mouth, revelling in the sweet taste of chocolate, and something fruity, as their tongues clashed and battled for dominance.

Grunting with frustration when Harry pulled away, Draco watched through half-lidded eyes as the other boy’s gaze skimmed over him, licking his lips salaciously, obviously more than happy with what he was seeing. And then inhaling sharply when Harry’s eyes, dark with lust, flicked up and smirked, Draco barely had time to wonder what was going through that delightfully devious mind when Harry rolled his hips in a slow, maddening circle, taking his breath away.

“You want to know what I’ve been wondering the past few weeks?” Harry murmured, rubbing his stubble along Draco’s cheek as he traced a finger down his chest and over his abdominals, sending a frisson of electricity jolting through his body. Harry pressed a tiny kiss to his ear and whispered in a low, sexy rasp as his finger dipped lower, tracing along the ridge of his erection. “I want to know how you taste. I’ll just bet that you taste _fucking amazing_ and I’ve been _dying_ to have that beautiful cock on my tongue. May I taste you?”

Draco whimpered at the dirty, descriptive words, spoken in a tone that had him panting with desire and his cock stiffening. _Fuck, yes he could taste him._ What the fuck kind of inane question was that? Not fully trusting his voice, Draco nodded, jolting again when a wicked laugh filled his ear just before Harry kissed him soundly and then slowly slid down his body, his hands following in his wake.

“Fuck,” he cursed, his voice grew thready as he stared into gleaming green eyes, and he gulped helplessly when Harry cupped his hips, and holding his gaze, leaned in to blow a hot, damp breath over his erection. Biting his lower lip to quell a moan, Draco jerked his hips when warm air penetrated the thin linen, and desperately fought to keep his eyes from sliding shut at the sensation. He didn’t want to miss what Harry did next.

“Dirty, little Gryffindor,” he accused, tossing the rejoinder back at the boy in front of him and watched in avid anticipation as Harry flicked the button on his trousers, then leisurely slid the zip down. Harry flicked his eyes to the emerging skin and arched a brow, his eyes darkening when he noted that Draco hadn’t bothered with pants that day. Draco trembled when Harry’s heated gaze flicked back up and met his, and then licking his lips hungrily, the Gryffindor impatiently yanked Draco’s trousers over his hips; and Draco had to look away lest he came from just that look alone. “Should have known you’d be a closet exhibitionist.”

“You have no idea,” Harry leered wickedly, his dark, enigmatic smirk making Draco narrow his eyes slightly, and wonder yet again just what the other boy had gotten up to over his summer abroad. But the thought quickly melted away under the swift, smooth assault of a surprisingly talented tongue.

Throwing his head back, Draco gripped the shelf behind him, his knuckles blanching as he scrabbled for hold and he groaned deeply as Harry licked a long, hot stripe up his shaft. Panting softly as Harry’s tongue continued to torment him with slow, delicious licks, he unconsciously spread his feet further apart, both for balance, and better access, and cried out when a hand wrapped around the base of his cock, gently squeezing. Draco reached down with one hand and buried his fingers in thick, ebony locks, whimpering when Harry pulled away to talk to him in a low, seductive murmur.

“Do you have any idea how many times I’ve seen you sitting all prim and proper at that table, oblivious to the fucking gorgeous picture you make, and wanted to walk over, pull you up from your chair, and press you back first into it?” Harry breathed, allowing his hot breath wash over his cock, making it jump to command - quite literally. “Or better yet - fall at your feet just like this, and yank your trousers and pants down to your ankles, and take this beautiful cock into my mouth, suckling and licking you until you came down my throat.”

“Salazar,” Draco cursed breathily, his vision spotting when Harry’s hand began to steadily pump his erection, slicking his pre-cum and Harry’s saliva along the length, the brunet’s words fuelling the inferno raging just under his skin, surging through his veins in a crackling stream. Shaking his head jerkily, Draco couldn’t help praying that Harry fulfilled that vision at some point.

“Every day since the start of term,” Harry husked, pausing to lick another long, wet strip up Draco’s cock, humming in pleasure as it lapped the crown and then he sucked the head into his mouth, swirling his tongue over it before pulling off. Fucking hell, he was going to drive Draco mental. When the hell did he get so damned chatty? Harry chuckled at his little growl of dissatisfaction, and continued to tease him with his words nonetheless. 

“Bet you didn’t notice, did you? I’d sit in my corner, disillusioned and watch you, thinking of how easy it would be to go over and take you as deep as I could into my mouth; speculating on how long it would take before you to let go of your inhibitions and fucked it. I was going to attempt that tonight, but you left the table before I could implement my plan. But this works too.”

Draco’s breath hitched as Harry wrapped his lips around the head of his prick and sucked languorously, his bright green gaze glowing as he watched Draco with heavy-lidded eyes. Lust slammed through him as his eyes fluttered, and then slid shut fully as he tangled his fingers deeper into ebon strands, and frantically fought against the urge to drag that talented mouth closer, deeper. He was thankful now that Harry had told him to erect those spells; he could only begin to imagine what he looked like, pressed to the shelves, cock hanging out and Harry Potter sucking on it like it was his favourite lolly. 

That visual would have been enough to make him come if it weren’t for the strategically placed fingers squeezing the base of said cock.

Breathing harshly when Harry suddenly hummed, Draco cried out incoherently and tightened his grip in Harry’s hair, his hips bucking just ever so slightly before he caught himself, and it took all his thinly reined control to keep from thrusting carelessly in that warm, wet cavern. He nearly came in that moment, but was saved once again as Harry pulled away to place soft, fervent nips and kisses along the insides of his thighs as he whispered in awe.

“Look at you; such a pretty picture you make - cheeks sweetly flushed, pink lips, swollen and parted, just begging for a kiss, your hair falling dishevelled and damp around your face - exquisite.”

Gasping when that talented, taunting mouth returned full force, Draco again bucked his hips, pushing his erection deeper between those delectable, cherry red lips, relishing in the sweet suction and the tantalizing swipes of tongue, and just barely managed not to plunge his cock down Harry’s waiting throat. He had endlessly fantasised about fucking that mouth, just as Harry had suggested earlier, shoving himself in so deep that the Golden Boy choked on it; but he held off now, uncertain as to how Harry would take his aggressiveness.

At least until the little prat taunted him.

“Come on, Malfoy,” that husky voice teased, breaking through the haze of pleasure clouding his mind, his last name garnering his displeasure until he caught the challenge glinting in verdant eyes. The heat burning in their depths, pushed his own temperature sky high, and ignited the pool of lust that had built in his gut as his lion-snake smirked at him, slyly taunting. “Fuck my mouth. You know you want to…or haven’t you the bollocks to see it through?”

Growling at the blatant challenge, Draco shoved both hands into the raven’s hair, curling the silky strands tightly in his fingers and thrust into that jeering mouth impatiently, his breath growing rough and ragged as he fucked it with abandonment, his movements growing jerkier with every plunge. Pumping helplessly, Draco threw his head back and keened, a low, vicious, drawn out growl that rumbled through his chest, as his thrusts grew shallow and erratic and his orgasm ripped through his body, leaving him spent and tingling. Pouring down Harry’s throat, he cried out as stars burst across his vision and then collapsed against the shelves a winded, boneless, wrecked heap.

Breathing heavily, he opened his eyes when he felt a familiar prickling of magic wash over him and smiled weakly as the cleaning charm cleared away all evidence of their encounter before Harry gently tucked him in and deftly closed his trousers. Watching as Harry winced and stood, Draco panicked minutely, thinking the other boy intended to slip away as he had many times before.

“Wait, what about you…” he rasped, his voice hoarse, and then trailed off when Harry merely smiled and leaned against him. Purring happily at his armful of lazy, sated Gryffindor, Draco wrapped his arms firmly around the other boy’s back and hummed in contentment as soft lips covered his, drawing him into a sweet, languid kiss that thrilled him to his toes.

“Too late,” Harry whispered against his lips, slipping his tongue between them and stroking his as he deepened the kiss, bringing their mingled tastes with it. 

Draco gave into the brunet’s skilful ministrations, reluctant to let the moment end and forgot his momentary panic altogether as hands ran over rumpled clothing and tangled into damp, matted hair. Sliding his hands to cup Harry’s jaw, he revelled in the feel and taste of the other boy, a warm glow filling him as Harry returned the soft, affectionate caresses, and Draco couldn’t help the flicker of hope that sparked inside his chest that finally, _finally_ he might have this boy for his own. 

He didn’t think he would ever get enough of Harry.

Slowly Harry pulled away, a slight flush colouring his cheeks as he stared into Draco’s eyes, his earlier confession catching up with them. Draco smirked, his own cheeks heating at the implication - Harry had already come merely from watching his enjoyment.

“Watching you come has to be the hottest, sexiest thing I have ever seen,” Harry confessed softly, his blush deepening at Draco’s pleased grin. Shrugging slightly, he averted his gaze and grinned a bit ruefully as he continued. “I couldn’t help myself.”

Draco smiled and kept his comments to himself, not wanting to embarrass his… well he didn’t know exactly what Harry was quite yet, but he didn’t want to make him any more uncomfortable. Swallowing thickly as a bright gaze studied his face thoughtfully, Draco held Harry’s look unflinchingly as the other boy seemed to search it, looking for something he couldn’t put words to. The solemn stare made him slightly nervous, but Draco simply returned it, his shields down for once. And that seemed to be the best reaction, as Harry nodded and smiled that shy, sweet smile that always made Draco’s heart flutter, and then kissed him gently on the lips.

All was right in the world.

“Just thought you needed a bit of a stress reliever; you know, to clear your head and all that,” Harry teased lightly, placing another lingering kiss against Draco’s mouth before pulling away to nuzzle his cheek fondly. “You’d better get back to work; that essay is due tomorrow. Oh, and top that, Malfoy.”

Grinning stupidly when Harry winked and walked away, Draco shook his head and dispelled the charms he’d placed around them, imagining the smug grin now gracing the Gryffindor’s face. Touching his lips, remembering those sweet kisses, he rolling his eyes at his own sappy behaviour and stooped, picking up the book he’d originally came for and walked out of the shelves, his mind surprisingly clear.

Who knew that a dose of Gryffindor was all that one needed to combat a faulty concentration?


	7. Revenge is Sweet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys haven't seen each other in three long weeks, how will they react?

****

Revenge is Sweet

Harry surreptitiously glanced up and down the hall, feeling that ever constant weight of eyes burning into the back of his neck; a near palpable press that left him breathless and wanting, chasing a heady trill down his spine. It ignited that sweet, fiery rush that _he_ called ‘ _Draco_ ’, and others’ called desire, sending it careening through his veins as he imagined brilliant, grey eyes covetously tracing over his body.

He’d know this feeling anywhere, had spent weeks honing his instincts where a certain blond was concerned until he could almost pinpoint where he was in relation to Harry; and one he had been anticipating since their recent separation. Three weeks of limited contact, and then that only through notes (no matter how tantalising), had been nerve wracking; despite those same said notes being filled with sweet, sinfully voiced promises of ‘revenge’ for his stunt in the library.

Promises that had left him aching deep into the night, grateful to some benevolent deity who had smiled down upon him, and allowed him the privacy of his own room since he’d spent the holidays with Andromeda. He wasn’t quite up to explaining to Ron just why he had awakened, hard, hot, and panting Draco’s name on numerous occasions; nor his need to wank after sex-drenched dreams of his supposed nemesis.

Dreams that were only natural given the circumstances.

He and Draco hadn’t been able to meet prior to their leaving for the Yule holidays, both having been sucked into the end of the term madness, which included papers, projects, exams and a nosy, meddlesome friend that would remain nameless, but whose name started with Herm. One that threatened poor, hapless boys with pain and endless nagging had they not given into said beast’s incessant demands of study time. Not that he would know anything about that.

But he digressed.

Neither of them had the chance to breathe, let alone a chance to ambush…erm… _talk_ to one another. And then it had been time to pack and leave. In the never ending excitement and chatter of the coming holidays, his well-meaning, but annoying friends had managed to keep him too busy to quietly slip away for one last rendezvous, much to his immense aggravation.

Harry wished he could say that Christmas with the Weasleys, Andromeda and Teddy had been just what he needed to distract his mind from the wickedly gorgeous Slytherin, but it was quite the opposite. In fact, all of the togetherness, and being surrounded by glowingly happy couples only cemented his discontent and made him realise just how much Draco had crept under his skin and taken up permanent residency in his heart. He had actually found himself missing the git; and not just because of the lack of sexual encounters, no matter how fantastic.

He missed his voice, and those nuggets of softness reflecting in storm-coloured eyes on rare occasion.

And it surprised him.

Harry wasn’t quite sure when this had all ceased to be a game to him, or exactly when his attraction had turned into more, but it had taken a strong hold in him and he couldn’t seem to break free. That he was even thinking of pursuing this beyond a momentary fling after everything that had happened between them in the past was… well, a bit mental really.

Then again, when had he ever been what others would call 'normal'?

And it left him feeling a bit wary as well; as he still wasn’t certain that this was more than a sexy game to the blond despite their recent encounter.

But stuck he was and he might as well give into the pull and see just where it would lead. He’d always been one to follow his heart, sometimes blindly, and he wasn’t about to stop now despite the precarious position this left him in.

When he’d returned, and saw Draco sitting across the room, candlelight playing in his hair, turning it into fine, spun gold, it had taken every fibre of his being to resist the urge to stalk over and yank the beautiful boy into a heated snog.

Somehow he’d managed it, however. Barely.

Not that it fooled Draco in the least, as he had looked up at precisely that moment, smirking when silver and green clashed, those argent flames brightening and glowing with hunger as they tracked over Harry’s body. Slowly licking his lips, Draco flicked his eyes up and pinned Harry in place with the sheer heat of his gaze, his pale pink lips glistening invitingly in the low light.

Harry had barely quelled the tremble that threatened to overwhelm him, his cheeks and body flushing hotly under that predatory gaze; and a light sheen of perspiration broke across his neck and brow as he’d remembered soft, insistent hands, lips, and teeth on his body. Quaking under that knowing smile, Harry finally tore his gaze away and shakily sunk into his seat, so completely turned on he could barely breathe. Exhaling explosively, Harry’s mind reeled, oblivious to the knowing looks passing between his friends as his eyes, and thoughts, were on one person; and one person alone.

_Draco._

The name reverberated through his mind, bringing with it the breathless feeling he got whenever he was in the other boy’s presence, leaving him hot, weak and wanting.

That had been three days ago, and Draco had yet to make his move despite the bright promise in grey eyes as he watched Harry's every move. And Harry couldn’t help wondering anew if this was all a game to the Slytherin and he'd gotten bored now that he had what he wanted – Harry’s complete, and obsessive, attention. The thought sent a pang through his heart, leaving him breathless for an entirely different reason as he shook off those disturbing thoughts and continued down the hall towards the kitchens for a snack. An excuse he used to leave the common room before he started climbing the walls – especially as Draco hadn’t been present.

Sighing quietly at his obsessive train of thought, Harry ran a weary hand through his hair as he passed the guest suites; this was getting to be worse than his sixth year, when he had followed Draco everywhere, convinced that the other boy was up to no good. (Which he had been. That would teach Ron and Hermione for not listening to his intuition.) Only this time, his thoughts took a very different bent – they were far more interested in pale skin splayed across dark red sheets and trembling beneath his every touch.

Merlin, he was going to drive himself mental.

Rounding the corner, Harry headed for the staircase that would take him to the bottom floor when a hand wrapped around his wrist and dragged him against a firm chest, strong arms wrapping him in a firm embrace. He struggled against the constricting clasp momentarily, still leery about being caught from behind, but ceased when the scent of citrus and cedar teased his nose, making him relax into the body behind him. Humming under his breath when soft lips brushed across the shell of his ear, Harry’s gut jolted as a familiar voice drawled in his ear.

“Hello, Harry,” Draco murmured, his tongue tracing the curve of his ear before latching his teeth into Harry’s lobe, eliciting a soft moan that spilled over Harry’s lips. “I was wondering when you’d finally get up the nerve to wander my way.”

Harry inhaled sharply, Draco conspicuous absences suddenly gelling in his mind – he had been waiting on Harry to come to him. But Harry, brooding over Draco’s true intentions, had been blind to the obvious tactic and had remained cooped up in his room, sulking at the blond’s truancy. He suddenly felt incredibly stupid for his petty actions and thoughts – after all, they had never made their trysts public and how would Draco have made his move when Harry hadn’t made himself available?

In fact, they had taken great pains to keep their ‘meetings’ under wraps. And Draco couldn’t know that Harry had recently been rethinking the clandestine nature of their relationship. Sometimes, he really just wanted to smack himself.

“I was just going for a snack,” he whispered huskily, making a small strangled sound as lips traced the line of his throat, making his eyes flutter shut.

“Liar,” Draco accused without heat, nipping the curve of his neck in remonstration. Harry’s breathing hitched, and he slid his hands down, over Draco’s thighs and gripped, his fingers tightening into firm flesh as the other boy continued his greedy assault on his neck. “You know that was only an excuse. You were finally going stir crazy. Admit it.”

“Yes,” he rasped, although he wasn't sure if he was answering Draco's question or encouraging more of those drugging kisses; his breaths grew shallow and heat built in his groin as Draco slid his hands over his body, fanning the flames burning just under the surface. Merlin, this man drove him mad.

“Gyffindors,” Draco clucked mockingly, pressing his face into Harry’s neck, his hands and lips stilling until he simply held Harry within the circle of his arms, breathing him in it seemed. “We all know your lot goes mental unless they’re running about, doing something.”

Harry merely grunted at Draco's observation and sunk further into Draco's body, moulding his back to the other man's front and tipped his own head until his nose was buried into fresh-scented hair, breathing in the essence of Draco as well. How he had missed this when he was gone. Draco's arms tightened around him, and Harry revelled anew in that rarely shown tenderness he'd been thinking of earlier, which is likely why he blurted out his thoughts before he could stop them.

“I missed you,” Harry murmured, flushing in mortification when lips smirked against his neck.

“Did you?” Draco asked softly; his breath warm and moist against Harry's neck, sending a tiny shiver tripping down his spine, the words echoing in his head. Harry stiffened, thinking he detected a note of amusement in the tone, and made to pull away, but Draco tightened his grip again, and held him in place. Pressing a soft kiss to Harry’s pulse, Draco murmured against the skin, “I missed you too.”

Harry smiled, and breathed a sigh of relief, his heart fluttering madly, elated at the small confession. He leaned back, breath snagging when he felt ample evidence that at least one part of Draco’s anatomy had definitely missed Harry. Shifting his hips sinuously, he chuckled when Draco cursed and a low moan resonated deep within Draco’s breast, rumbling against his ear. One echoed by Harry when Draco reciprocated in kind, grinding his erection into Harry’s arse.

“Merlin,” Harry muttered, rolling his hips again in response, and shivered when hands ghosted over his rapidly filling flesh just before Draco gripped his hips, halting their motion with a firm warning squeeze.

“Draco will do,” Draco quipped lightly, making Harry huff in mock indignation as the boy behind him pulled away and took his hand, tugging him away from the stairs and back down the hall towards the guest suites. “Come with me.”

Harry raised his brows, surprised by the change in their routine, but followed Draco silently, his heart picking up in pace when Draco stopped before one of the suites, one with an elaborate ‘M’ engraved into the door. It would figure that the Malfoys would have a permanent guest suite within the school – they were just that pretentious.

Barely quelling a snort, Harry shunted aside any extraneous thoughts as Draco pulled him into the room. Who was he to complain about the suite when it led to the possibility of more than a few rushed minutes with the object of his fascination and affection? It was hypocritical to be upset with these things when he fully intended to take advantage of this fortuitous, if slightly unfair, benefit.

Blinking rapidly as Draco closed the door behind them, Harry stilled as darkness descended, and allowed his eyes time to adjust to the sudden blackout, especially when Draco dropped his hand and moved further into the room, lighting several candles along the way. Swiping his clammy hands over his trousers, Harry watched the blonde, his breathing ragged as he realised that their relationship had taken a pivotal turn once they had entered the room, becoming more than just a few random, hurried gropes and snogs; and he couldn’t help feeling slightly overwhelmed by the turn of events.

A feeling that sharpened, almost strangling him, as Draco faced him and their eyes met, clashed and clung for several long, breathless minutes before the Slytherin slowly crossed the room to stand before Harry.

Licking suddenly parched lips, Harry held that silver gaze as Draco reached out, and fingers grazing his jaw, tipped Harry’s chin at an angle and then dipped his head, bringing their lips together. Harry’s eyes slid shut as warm, soft lips brushed over his, a touch so light and ephemeral, it was as if they weren’t there; like the flutter of a butterfly’s wings. Yet it had the power to set his soul on fire. Gasping softly as Draco pulled back just a hairbreadth, Harry trembled when their noses bumped, and their breaths mingled, as he stood there completely dumbstruck for a fleeting, silent second before chasing those silky lips, and sinking into them with a low groan.

Wrapping his arms around Draco’s neck, Harry clung to the other boy as his head spun madly, their lips sliding and moulding against each other as they shared those sweet kisses that left him completely lost. Draco made a soft noise in the back of his throat as he gently cupped Harry’s jaw, bringing him even closer as the blond slowly walked them towards the plush bed behind him, stopping only when his knees hit the mattress.

Twining his arms around Harry’s back, Draco swung Harry around, reversing their positions before gently toppling Harry onto the bed. Panting softly, Harry held that warm gaze as he slowly pulled himself onto the bed, kicking off his shoes as he went, and made his way up the bed until he was lying against the pillows. Swallowing thickly, his throat convulsed as he watched the other boy, only a hint of trepidation glimmering in his eyes as Draco sank onto the edge of the mattress, and snapped his fingers as he too kicked off his shoes.

“What – what’s that for?” Harry gulped as a tray of what appeared to be chocolate mousse and a small dish of whipped cream popped up next to the bed.

“I’m feeling a mite…peckish myself, and was craving something sweet,” Draco replied, a delightfully devious smile spreading across his face as he crawled towards Harry.

“ _Oh_ ,” Harry breathed, his mind flitting to one of those bloody teasing notes from Christmas break, in which Draco had waxed poetic about his beloved chocolate, and how Harry would make the perfect canvas for his favourite dessert.

He had nearly wanked himself raw over that image. And now it seemed as if he were going to be gifted with his favourite fantasy. _Bloody hell_.

Harry watched in rapt fascination as Draco slunk up his body and straddled his hips, and then, placing one hand on each side of his torso, pressed Harry deeper into the bed as he studied his quarry in a predatory light. Breathing hitching, Harry moaned when Draco leaned down and captured his lips, his tongue sliding over Harry’s bottom lip, enticing him to part them. Gripping Draco’s hips, Harry rocked his up into Draco's, a slightly impatient roll quickly quelled by Draco’s clamped thighs as the blond continued to brush their lips together, lavishing Harry in honeyed kisses that sent his body thrumming.

Whimpering softly at those unhurried, teasing caresses, Harry tilted his head and opened his mouth to the assault, groaning and pulling the other boy closer when a velvet tongue dipped between his lips and curled around his, tangling in a dance as old as time. Tangling his fingers into fine, golden tresses, Harry lost himself in the wonder of Draco’s mouth, completely undone by the sheer passion, and something he couldn’t quite identify, exploding between them, leaving his nerves feeling as if they were made of electricity.

“Draco…” he whispered into the other boy’s mouth, groaning when that insistent tongue continued to tease and tantalise, leaving him breathless and burning from the inside out.

Unlike their previous heated kisses, this one was slow seduction personified – soft, tender; every brush of Draco’s tongue, lips, and teeth a titillating promise of what was to come. It was fire and light; luscious and heady; and as decadent as the richest, darkest chocolate. It left Harry aching, breathless, and scrambling to ground himself, only to be met with yet more intoxicating heat. It was mind blowing and life changing.

And lasted far too short a time for Harry’s tastes.

Gasping when Draco pulled away, Harry grumbled in discontent until scalding lips latched onto his neck and sucked at his pulse, drawing a mewl of approval as long, tapered fingers plucked at his shirt, deftly undoing the buttons; and splaying the ends wide, Draco stripped the shirt from his body altogether. Harry watched in a daze as Draco pulled away and stared at him with soft, lust-filled eyes, his hands trailing over his chest, smiling devilishly as he reached the waistband of his trousers, and slowly undid the button and zip.

“Tease,” Harry hissed, taking a small hiccuping breath as Draco slid his trousers over hips and legs, tossing them to the side with wicked chuckle.

“Takes one to know one,” Draco taunted, reaching over for the mousse with one hand as he climbed back up Harry's body.

“Prat,” Harry huffed, smiling when he swore he heard the other boy whisper almost inaudibly, _'your prat'_.

Harry watched in breathy anticipation as Draco dipped one finger into the sweet confection and brought it to his mouth, giving it a slow, sinful lick before sucking it fully into his mouth. He groaned, his cheeks heating, as Draco's lashes fluttered shut in pure enjoyment, and it was all too tempting to toss the dish aside and drag that pretty pink mouth to his for a taste; but he held off as he was far more interested in what the other boy intended to do with his treat.

Licking his lips, Harry gulped when Draco removed his finger with an audible pop and raised his lids half mast to study Harry with a heat so intense, Harry swore his skin would scorch and blister in its wake. To be on the other end of that fiery stare – he simply had no words. Smiling smugly, Draco dipped his finger into the chocolate again, and scooped out a fair portion and then carefully set the remaining aside, lowering his hand to Harry's waiting chest.

The cold substance against his hot skin had Harry hissing and clenching at the comforter, making him dig his heels into the bed to keep from levitating off of it as Draco swirled the pudding onto his skin, paying particular attention to his nipples and abs, only dipping back into the bowl as necessary. Harry watched the blond demon through his lashes, biting at his lower lip harshly when fingers ran over a particularly sensitive area, trying to keep from crying out and alerting Draco of just how desperately turned on he was.

An effort that failed miserably judging by the sly smile touching said demon's lips. One that deepened when Draco had decided he had teased Harry enough and set about cleaning off his creation.

Harry moaned as Draco’s tongue curled around his nipple, lapping up the chocolate with a firm, delicious swipe, eliciting a frisson of desire that pooled in his groin. He gasped, squirming under Draco's tongue to ease the ache building inside him with those tiny, yet ineffectual movements; and he couldn’t help but whimper when blunt teeth caught and scraped over his skin, teasing it with a sharp nip before Draco released it and drew back with a smug smirk.

 _Bloody hell_ , that felt _fantastic_.

Watching his tormentor through hooded eyes, Harry couldn’t help squirming again as Draco continued his maddening quest to drive Harry mental with nothing but his tongue and teeth. Groaning when that velvet tongue swirled around and then dipped into his navel, Harry reached up and sunk his hands into fine, silky blond strands, clenching them and his eyes tightly as he arched, seeking more; and then tightened his grip as Draco tongue slid lower, tracing the edge of his pants.

Sweet Circe. His body was on fire.

Protesting when Draco lifted his head, Harry opened his eyes, not realising until then that he had clenched them shut, and stared deeply into Draco's face; sweat dotted cheeks flushed to a near scarlet, framing eyes that had grown into a flickering inferno of passion and need. Wetting his lips, Harry’s lashes trembled under that gaze and then closed fully when Draco dipped his head and placed a scorching kiss against his lips before scrambling off the bed much to Harry's dismay.

Not that he had to wait long for Draco's next actions, which shot a jolt of pure, unadulterated lust through his veins.

Draco stood at the edge of the bed, glazed eyes raking over Harry's form as he quickly divested himself of his shirt and trousers, and then, too far gone in his lust for finesse dove back onto Harry. With teeth and tongue, Draco set about licking and sucking and scraping the remnants of mousse, making Harry arch and writhe and whimper mindlessly as Draco travelled up his torso.

Not to be outdone by the Slytherin, Harry waited until until Draco had reached his mouth, sinking into it with hot, voracious kiss, and then when the blond was fully distracted, wrapped his arms around Draco's waist, and quickly reversed their positions. Giving the stunned blond an impish grin, Harry reached for the whipped cream, more than ready for his chance at dessert.

Harry swiped a good amount of cream over Draco's sweat-kissed skin, all that perfect, paleness taking on an almost pearly sheen in the low, flickering light, making Harry's mouth water as he traced sinew and flesh. Dipping his head, he gave a long, slow lick starting with Draco's trembling abs, leading up to the light, almost dusty pink nipples that beckoned, and almost seemed to beg for attention. Closing his mouth around it, he sucked and nibbled, delighting in how Draco arched and squirmed into his touch and the small, kittenish noises that spilled over slightly parted lips.

“Delicious,” he whispered, turning his attention to the other, completely lost in the heady scent of sugar, sweat and _'Draco,'_ and slightly smug at turning the Slytherin's game against him.

“Harry,” Draco murmured, sliding his fingers through Harry's hair, breath hitching as Harry continued to tease and torment his flesh with soft kisses, light nips and the languid glide of tongue, Harry often eschewing the sweet confection for the taste of Draco's bare skin. It was like nothing he could ever describe – musky, salty, with just a hint of natural sweetness lying beneath the two stronger tastes.

It was ambrosia.

Groaning under his breath as Draco's hips moved fluidly against his, Harry traced a path over the curve of the blond's neck, delicately licking and sucking as he moved towards what really held him in thrall – that sweet, hot mouth. Capturing it, Harry delved his tongue into it, curling it around Draco's as chocolate and cream burst across his tongue, mingling with the taste that was inherently Draco and making something altogether new and fantastic. Forget treacle tart; he'd just found his new favourite treat.

Breathing growing ragged, Harry continued to devour the other boy's mouth, sealing with kiss after continuous kiss, until both were panting into the others mouth, their slightly sticky skin pressed together. Gasping as their silk-clad cocks slid together, Harry wrenched away from that perfect mouth to grind his hips into Draco's, eliciting an almost pained cry from the other boy, his eyes clenched at the pleasure tracing fiery paths along his nerves. Opening his eyes, he stared down into smoky eyes, whimpering at the sheer feral need that burned in them; one that grew into a full out moan when Draco thrust up into him, making their erections slither along side each other.

“Merlin,” he cried softly, his body trembling with need at this point, and his mind beyond blown as Draco took the reins once more, rolling his hips into Harry's in a sinuous motion.

“ _Draco_ , Harry,” the blond smirked, putting his hands on Harry's hips. “But if you wish to deify me, I shan't complain.”

“No,” Harry protested as he felt Draco try and flip him over, pressing his hands firmly into the other boy's chest. “I want to...erm....I want to....”

Harry trailed off, biting his lower lip and flushing as Draco stared at him uncomprehendingly until Harry gestured between them; and then a fervent light glowed in the depths of those fathomless eyes as understanding dawned, leaving Draco flushed and panting. Gripping the back of Harry's neck, Draco dragged him into fevered, hard kiss, entangling his tongue with Harry's for just a moment before whispering hotly against his lips.

_“Then ride me, Harry.”_

Harry mewled, lust slamming through his body as those words echoed in his head as he rose, and hands pressed into Draco's chest, gave a tentative roll of his hips, grunting under his breath as his pleasure spiked when silk slid against silk and in turn, slid against his own hard, heated flesh. _Fucking hell_ , that felt brilliant. And given the state of the blond beneath him, Draco concurred as he growled under his breath.

“Don't be a pansy, Potter,” he grunted, digging his fingers into Harry's hips as he ground his cock against him. “You can do better than that; ride me!”

Harry growled at the command, narrowing his eyes at the writhing blond for just a moment before he responded, and began to frot against him in earnest, unable to resist such a challenge. Panting quietly, Harry leaned over, allowing their cocks to brush against each other with every thrust of his hips, mimicking the far more intimate act that he'd rather be doing, and fuelling that river of lust streaming into their veins.

“Gods, yes, _Harry_ ,” Draco choked out, his hips arching into Harry as he came, filling Harry with a sense of power as he watched Draco come undone. Watching wide-eyed as Draco threw his head back, eyes clenched in ecstasy, he continued to rub his clothed erection against the other boy's hip for just a few erratic strokes before tossing his head back and crying out as he too came, star bursting across his vision.

Harry drew in several gulping breaths, his body tingling as pleasure coursed through him, his body tight and suspended; and then he slumped against Draco's chest, completely winded. Eyes closed, Harry laid there, swimming, drowning really, in bliss, absently stroking Draco's glowing skin, enjoying his lover's little, rumbling purrs. He could easily stay like that forever, but he knew that time was running short; he had told everyone he wouldn't be long and he had no doubt that Ron would come looking for him if he was gone for much longer.

“I’d better get back,” Harry sighed, kissing Draco softly as he rose, saddened that he couldn't just lie here with his lover, especially when Draco made a discontented little sound in the back of his throat. He didn't want to leave either, but perhaps someday... someday they might come clean and he could have everything he dreamed of. “I told everyone I was going to get a snack from the kitchens and that I’d be right back. If I don’t turn up soon, they’re likely to come looking.”

Quickly putting on his clothing, Harry leaned back over for one last sweet kiss before walked towards the portrait door, where he paused and looked back, smiling softly at his lover’s replete, lounging figure. He was so beautiful and Harry couldn't wait until they had the chance to meet up again. Holding Draco's gaze for several long moments, he was again stunned by the emotions that seemed to flit through them, and blowing one last kiss before he could give into the pull of that beautiful man, he walked out, and quickly making his way to the common room, promising that himself that he would see him soon.

… … …

“I thought he said he was just going to the kitchens?” Ron asked, sounding slightly bewildered and concerned as he looked at those surrounding him in the eighth-year common room – namely his girlfriend Hermione, his sister Ginny and her boyfriend Neville. Studying their unreadable expressions silently, he huffed when Ginny and Hermione exchanged that look girls always had when they thought a member of the male gender was being particularly dense, and muttered under his breath. “Well, he did.”

“Actually,” Ginny smirked, reminding Ron of all too well of that bastard Malfoy, especially when coupled with the sly glint in her eyes, and then chuckled. “I believe he said he was ‘going for some _dessert_.’”

“Right,” Ron nodded, nearly missing his girlfriend’s exasperated sigh, and frowned when she merely shook her head sadly. He hated when they did that; looked at him as if he were completely gormless, but he pressed on, “what else could….” Ron paused, his sister’s nearly honeyed insinuation hitting home in the next moment, making him grimace in distaste. “Oh, eww; _Ginny!_ ”

Ginny and Hermione giggled at his expression, the both of them holding their stomachs as he continued to gag at the thought of Harry in any sexual situation. It was just so wrong on so many levels that he couldn’t even begin to explain it. Unbidden, a flash of Harry wrapped around some female, or male for that matter, with his head thrown back in pleasure, insinuated itself behind his eyes and he turned green, and dropped his reeling head into his hands in dismay. He was going to kill Ginny for that comment.

Lifting his head, he opened his mouth to say so when the Portrait door opened and in stumbled the object of their current discussion, his clothing distinctly rumpled and humming absently to himself. Ron stared at his friend in horror at the implications, his stomach decidedly off as he made out the faint outline of what was sure to be a spectacular love bite on Harry’s neck come morning. Scrunching his nose in distaste, he tore his gaze away, only to be met with his sister’s and girlfriend’s knowing smiles, which had him glowering at the floor as Ginny greeted Harry.

“So, Harry…” Ginny purred slyly, flicking a smug grin towards Ron as Harry opened his eyes sleepily and raised a single brow in question. “How was dessert?”

“Fantastic,” Harry replied dreamily, drawing out the word in such a way that it left no doubts to what he had been up to that night.

Ron just studied his hands silently, slightly aghast and feeling quite ill as Harry sauntered over to their little corner and flopped bonelessly into a chair, his utterly satiated smile making Neville flush uncomfortably and both girls giggle helplessly. Ron inhaled deeply, and pinched the bridge of his nose before holding a single hand to stave off any explanations. As much as he loved Harry, he just didn’t need to know.

“No details,” Ron muttered; a slight shudder slid over his spine as the visual Ginny had so ruthlessly implanted in his head flashed before his eyes again. Merlin, that image was going to haunt him forever. And it wasn’t that he was disgusted by Harry’s orientation. He knew after a long chat at the end of summer that Harry was bisexual, although he tended to lean towards men. And he accepted that. It was just…it was Harry, who was like his _brother_ , and he didn’t even want to think about what he had been doing to look so dishevelled. “Please.”

“What?” Harry asked, confused eyes trying to meet his, but Ron kept them carefully averted.

“Never mind him,” Hermione clucked, sending Ron a ‘you better shut up if you know what’s good for you glance,’ sending a chill down his spine, and then turned back to Harry with a gentle smile. “Ron’s just being a prat; ignore him. “

Harry smiled at that and then tried to make sense of his more tangled than usual bed-head. Ron’s stomach turned yet again at the knowledge of why that was; and he was considering excusing himself, just knowing that Ginny and Hermione were dying to hear the details, when a soft question had him perking his ears.

“Good to you?” Hermione asked quietly.

Ron looked up, somewhat bewildered by the question, and watched as Hermione searched Harry’s face probingly, her soft, brown eyes crinkling in amusement when Harry’s jaw dropped open, and then just as quickly snapped shut as his cheeks flushed hotly and he squirmed uncomfortably under Hermione’s gaze. Narrowing his eyes, Ron’s gaze danced between them as Harry slowly nodded his affirmation. _She knew!_ She… wait, of course she knew; it was Hermione; but still, she _knew_ and hadn’t said anything. And didn’t that hurt just a touch, especially when Harry gave Hermione a hesitant smile, his eyes filling with anxiety as he waited for her to speak once more.

“I’m glad, Harry,” Hermione nodded, sharing a conspiratorial grin with Ginny, who just grinned right back, her eyes sparkling with mischief. Wait, she told _Ginny_ , but didn’t tell him? Unfair! “We’ve been worried about you spending so much time alone. It’s good to hear that you have someone.”

Harry beamed, his eyes lighting up as he latched onto both Hermione and Ginny, squeezing them into a tight group hug until they squeaked, obviously thrilled that he had their approval. Once he released them, Harry slumped back in his seat and yawned widely, bringing those damned visuals back to the forefront of Ron’s mind, and he couldn’t help turning slightly green as Harry smiled dopily and then slowly rose, stretching and raising his shirt as he did. Ron stared at yet more marks littering Harry’s skin and flushed, quickly looking away.

“I’m going to head to bed,” Harry said, dropping his arms and lazily made his way to the boys’ dorms. “I’m a bit tired.”

“I’ll just bet you are…” Ginny cackled, earning her another flush as Harry rolled his eyes and flicked her a rather rude hand gesture. But rather than getting angry as Ron expected, Ginny just giggled and blew him a kiss as Harry continued out of the room.

Ron stared at all three, utterly gobsmacked, before turning to Neville, hoping to find some support in that direction; or even just a little commiseration for the madness that had overtaken their friends, but Neville quickly averted his gaze, his cheeks heating in response. _Bloody, buggering hell!_ Did Neville know too? Was he the only of his friends in the dark?

Turning his head back to his friend’s rapidly disappearing back, Ron grumbled under his breath, especially as he noted that Zabini and Parkinson were whispering frantically between themselves, equally entranced with Harry’s retreat. He had to wonder what they were up to, particularly when Malfoy joined them with a smug grin minutes later. Dismissing the Slytherin prat and his harem, Ron rejoined his friends’ conversation, grimacing and cutting off a mischievously grinning Ginny when she opened her mouth.

“Not a word. Just… not a word. I don’t even want to guess what that was all about.”


	8. Shameless Sportsmanship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and Draco's encounters have deepened, but Draco, while enjoying the sweetness, is missing the fire of their first encounters and turns up the heat, getting a bit more than he bargained for...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies on getting this out late. I caught a cold, which then became the ear infection from hell...
> 
> Also, this is unbeta'd, so please forgive my mistakes. My beta has been extremely busy since the new semester started and hasn't had the chance to look it over.

****

Shameless Sportsmanship

Draco stood beneath the shower head, steaming, hot water cascading over his head, the pounding spray rinsing dust and sweat from his body and easing the ache that had built in overworked muscles. The Quidditch game had been a brutal one, taking hours to play; and mostly due to his own interference, so he had no room to complain for his soreness. Harry could have easily ended the game several times - had his mind actually been on the game, and not the naughty, sinful words Draco had been whispering to him throughout it. But between that and the daydreams likely flitting through his mind as a result, Harry had been a bit...distracted and lost the snitch numerous times.

Much to Draco's advantage.

Smirking to himself for a job well done, he tilted his head forward, dropping it so the spray could splash against his stiff neck, allowing it to work its magic there before it streamed over shivering, pebbled skin in thick, heavy rivulets as he washed the day's grime away. Seeing Harry's face when he plucked the snitch away from him, almost out of thin air, had been priceless. The poor man looked torn between tossing Draco to the ground and beating him senseless for cheating, or tossing him down and shagging him senseless for his teasing.

Not that it mattered in the end. The game was merely for fun, but Harry's notorious competitive streak wouldn't let that pass without issue. Or at least, that's what Draco hoped.

Quidditch hadn't officially recommenced this year, as Headmistress McGonagall and the other professors had been far more focused on revamping the curriculum and making certain that the castle was safe for the students to be bothered by extracurricular activities. But that hadn't stopped the more industrious students from forming their own teams and competing. Harry had been insistent on playing his final year, citing that he had missed far too many years due to circumstances beyond his control.

So, he pulled all former team members together, along with anyone else who had an interest, and thus the Hogwarts Quidditch League was born. Draco couldn't blame him, as he had been less than happy to hear that Quidditch had been cancelled as well, and had been all too happy to throw his lot in. And it had been successful on many fronts.

 _One,_ they were playing Quidditch.

 _Two,_ due to the nature of the league, it was mixed house, which supported the inter-house cooperation party-line that had been crammed down their throats since they'd come back.

 _Three,_ he got to play Quidditch.  
 _Four,_ McGonagall was so happy with their little experiment, that she'd asked if he and Harry would write up a proposal that she could present at the next professor's meeting for the potential future of Quidditch at Hogwarts.

 _Five,_ he got to play Quidditch against _Harry._

Sensing a trend here?

While he was thrilled that their league had flourished and garnered recognition, he really was far more interested in playing against Harry again. He had to admit, getting Harry thrown off the team in fifth year, while immediately satisfying at the time, had been the stupidest thing he'd ever done. Once Harry was gone, there was no real competition, and he had been bored to tears with each game he played. There had been nothing more exciting, and dare he say arousing, than watching Harry's eyes flash at him as they hunted down the snitch.

But he digressed.

Tipping his head back, Draco closed his eyes and ran his hands through his hair, rinsing the suds from it as he turned his mind back over the game he'd just won under questionable methods, relaxing minutely as the locker room emptied around him. And his lips spread into a smug grin as the visual of a flushed, aroused Harry flashed before his eyes.

_Draco, having seen the snitch first for once, had flown up to Harry, and began whispering quietly into his ear on how he wanted Harry to find him after the game, push him into the shower tiles and shag him silly. Harry had flushed oh-so-prettily at his naughty words, squirming on his broom as his cock filled and barely bit back an oath when Draco flicked his tongue over the shell of Harry's ear once he noted he was sheltered from others view._

_This all in conjunction with Draco holding and stroking the shaft of Harry's broom suggestively._

_Harry's lashes had fluttered beautifully, his lips parting slightly to allow the tip of his tongue to peek out and flick over parched lips. His breath had fallen in delicious little pants as Draco continued to manipulate both Harry's broom handle and his words, mentioning how he couldn't wait until Harry's cock stretched him fully, and pounded him relentlessly into the wall, hot water slicking over their equally hot, sweaty bodies. Harry had moaned at that point, his eyes sliding shut as he gripped the handle of his broom tightly, his knuckles blanching under the strain of keeping his hands to himself._

_And then Draco had smirked, and took off after the snitch, leaving a dazed Harry reeling in his wake..._

Moaning quietly, Draco slid his hands over his chest, pinching his nipples once before allowing them to continue their trek over his abs and down to his groin, where one wrapped around his rapidly filling cock, and the other braced his weight against the wall. Fuck, but Harry had been hot once he had realised just what Draco had done. Giving a slow tug on his prick, Draco sighed, and allowed his mind to fill with those tantalising images.

_Harry had rebounded quickly and was after him in a flash, his eyes narrowed dangerously as he shadowed Draco relentlessly, blithely following him under the stands to his own doom. And there, Draco had ambushed him, slowing his pace enough, so that Harry rode along side him, looking at him in confusion until Draco had latched onto his broom and shoved him against the stands. Harry had let out a startled breath, green eyes staring in open bewilderment until Draco invaded his space. And then they flared with heat._

_"M-Malfoy, what are you doing?" Harry stammered, groaning when, instead answering at first, Draco ran his hands over the seeker's svelte form, taunting and teasing him as promised earlier, his already overheated body growing hotter to the touch._

_"I should think that its self-explanatory, Potter," he purred silkily, capturing those sweet lips for a long, unhurried kiss that sent his heart racing and his blood rushing, all the while tracking his hands trailed over Harry's very fit body, the potential of them being caught only adding to the excitement coursing through his veins._

_"Malfoy…Draco, please," Harry whispered, his breathing ragged as Draco released his mouth, knowing all too well that they couldn't linger. Smirking at the other boy's deliciously debauched appearance, and the neediness lacing Harry's voice, Draco leaned over and pressed another hard kiss to those tempting lips before abruptly pulling away._

_"Catch me if you can,_ Harry _," Draco taunted, echoing the words that had started this entire venture? Relationship? And then he bolted once more, leaving a very frustrated, rumpled Gryffindor glowering after him and clutching the side of the stands as he caught his breath. ___

__It had continued in that same vein for the entirety of the game, until Harry had been all but snapping and snarling at his each and every approach, and looked as if he were tempted to throw Draco onto the field and have his way with him regardless of the consequences._ _

__Just as Draco had planned. _He so needed this.__ _

__Recently their trysts hadn't been of the planned nature; instead they usually happened at every turn and in any chance they could get their hands on each other, and they were filled with sweet kisses, soft touches and hot bodies pressed tightly together. And he had enjoyed it; loved the deepening of their relationship. It was exactly what he wanted for the long run._ _

__But after weeks of tenderness, sometimes he wished for those first seethingly hot moments where Harry took control and pressed him into the nearest wall, or table, or mattress, or whatever surface was available and teased him with punishing kisses and rough caresses. Which is why he had begun his tormenting game today; enflaming the fiery Gryffindor with his words, taunting him with visuals of them wrapped together until Harry could barely see straight. And then, he'd snatched the snitch right out from under those glassy eyes, fully knowing that the irritated Leo would see his distraction as a form of cheating and would end up stalking him to take his revenge._ _

__And he couldn't wait until his actions caught up with him, leaving him at the mercy of his wrathful lion-snake, who would all to happy to prove that Harry Potter could _not_ be tamed despite their recent rash of softness._ _

__"Someone was being a teasing, little prat today…" a husky voice whispered darkly against his ear, yanking him from his thoughts and halting his slow, tantalising movements mid-stroke; a soft, sinful rasp that, when paired with Quidditch-roughened hands wrapping around his hips, sent his heart thrumming madly. Gasping softly as Harry jerked him back against a hard, damp chest, Draco closed his eyes and moaned as bare skin moulded to his._ _

__"I don't know what you mean," Draco drawled 'innocently', fighting to keep his breathing even and unaffected as a warm, wet, solid form slid sinuously against his own, and he knew in the split second before Harry shoved him unceremoniously into the tiles that the other boy was as naked as he._ _

__"Of course you don't," Harry agreed, his tone sardonic as he pressed deeper into Draco's back until they were flush, thigh to thigh, hip to hip, and chest to back with Harry's cock snuggly nestled between Draco's arse cheeks. It left him breathless and aching. Hot breath wafted over the shell of Draco's ear as Harry continued conversationally._ _

__"It must have been some other blond Slytherin that kept flirting with me. Teasing and taunting me with visuals of fucking him in the broom shed? _Touching_ me when we followed the snitch, but lost it under the Slytherin stands; all but wanking me off before he conveniently disappeared, leaving me with a massive hard on?"_ _

__"Better not have been," Draco muttered, his tone darker and icier than a midwinter's night, his eyes flashing a steely grey at the thought of _anyone_ else touching the perfect body behind him. Draco's breath snagged when a sexy chuckle rumbled in his ear at that response, and then exited in a rush as an arm cinched around his waist possessively._ _

__"I'd have to kill Theo," he added breathlessly._ _

__Teeth sank into crook of his neck, scraping over wet, tender skin, sending sparks shooting down his spine, igniting the lust pooling in his groin. _Merlin_ , but he did love this side of Harry; he wished it would come out to play much more often. Sighing as greedy lips, teeth and tongue sucked and bit and lapped at his neck, Draco rubbed his hips against Harry's, loving the way they fit together and the frisson of electricity that shot across his nerves from the friction._ _

__Groaning when Harry's mouth moved down over his shoulders, Draco was tempted to push the Gryffindor away and turn around for what would be his first full view of naked Potter, but the thought melted away under a renewed onslaught of callused hands, which joined those soft lips in pushing him to higher realms of pleasure. Especially when the nips and kisses were mixed with the sinfully sexy sighs and hitches of breath coming from the man worshiping his body._ _

__"I believe you owe me for that little stunt," Harry rasped, his hands running the length of Draco's torso to settle on his hips, digging into the soft flesh as Harry nudged his cock between Draco's thighs, and Draco couldn't help the catch in his voice when he asked._ _

__"Owe you for what?" He pleaded innocence, and then smirked when the other man huffed._ _

__Harry gave his arse a little admonishing smack, making the skin tingle with a delicious burn, and his cock jumped to attention at the action. _Fuck._ The lucky bastard would stumble onto one of Draco's kinks without even trying. He groaned in earnest when, noticing his reaction, Harry hummed in approval and smacked him once again, this time on the other cheek. Gasping aloud, Draco squirmed as Harry then slid rough hands over the warmed, reddened skin, squeezing and massaging it in emphasis as he growled._ _

__"For making me so hard, I was more focused on pushing this pretty, white arse against the locker room shower wall, _and_ fucking you senseless, than playing the game."_ _

__Draco arched into those caresses, inviting more of the same, and pouted when Harry just laughed softly and stepped away, pulling all that hot, pliant skin away from his needy body. Draco shivered at the sudden chill, but it lasted only a second before his skin heated once more as Harry hauled off and smacked his arse for a third time, this time on the full cheek, eliciting another shudder. But this one was from delight._ _

__"You cost me the snitch, Malfoy," Harry accused, his tone the same colour as the richest, dark chocolate and just as velvety, each word punctuated with a solid smack to Draco's backside; and each of them just enough to sting and make his cock twitch in anticipation, but not enough to bruise. It left him an aching, shivering mess. _Yes_ , this is _exactly_ what he wanted._ _

__Arching into the final blow, ten total, five for each cheek, he panted and squirmed, attempting to rub his aching cock against the cool tiles for a spot of relief, but was halted by firm hands digging into his hips again. Once he'd stilled, waiting for Harry's next move, he huffed and grew increasingly frustrated when the raven seemed content to run his hands soothingly over his injured flesh instead of bloody well doing something._ _

__This was so not on. He wanted…no _needed_ Harry to lose his control and just take what he wanted, not worship him as he had done some many times before in the past few weeks. Biting his bottom lip, he glanced at the occupied raven with a sly glint in his eyes and decided to fan the flames of his ire by reminding him just why he sought Draco out._ _

__"I did no such thing," he declared unrepentantly, turning up his nose haughtily and sniffing with a touch of disdain. "It's not my fault you're so easily distracted."_ _

__Draco held his breath as the man behind him inhaled sharply and then froze to a near cellular level, and fought from taking back the words when the other man growled a warning in his throat. He knew there was nothing that Harry both loved, and hated with a passion, than to have his authority challenged; it automatically made the brunet want to prove the challenger wrong in that endearingly brash, Gryffindor way of his. And for all of Harry's Slytherin traits, Draco knew that it was this Gryffindor trait that would get him exactly what he wanted – a hot, commanding raven bent on making Draco succumb to his each and every whim._ _

__"We'll see about that," Harry responded between clenched teeth, his hands slicking up over Draco's back and gripping his shoulders tightly, suddenly flipping Draco around to face him, and then slammed him back into the tiles once more. Air exploded from his lungs as he hit, leaving him breathless, a condition that intensified as fiery green eyes clashed with his, and he suddenly had an armful of hot, naked Gryffindor._ _

___Bloody hell_ , he should have done this long ago._ _

__Groaning when Harry's cock pressed and slid wetly against his, Draco rocked his hips, silently begging for more of that beautiful friction and slid his hands over Harry's back, enjoying the play of sinew and skin beneath his hands. And barely managed to quell a squeak when Harry growled again and pressed back, ripping Draco's hands from his body and unceremoniously pinning them above his head. Breathing rapidly, Draco knew that, had he wanted, he could free himself from Harry's grasp, but as this had been the desired outcome, he stood there, passive in his hands._ _

__Well, to a degree. Malfoys weren't passive by nature and he was the least passive of them all.  
"Can't prove it," he taunted, groaning when Harry leaned in, his kiss-swollen, cherry red lips hovering enticingly above Draco's as continued to move sinuously against him, teasing Draco to newer heights. Licking parched lips, Draco defiantly tipped his head at a slight angle, so that their lips were mere centimetres apart and their breaths mingled as Harry once again moulded scorching flesh against Draco's._ _

__"Don't need to," Harry countered, his voice low and dangerous as he skimmed his lips over Draco's, and then teasingly pulled away when Draco leaned in for more; he shuddered as that voice slid over his skin like satin, stroking his insides in ways a mere voice shouldn't have the power to do, especially when the raven taunted wickedly. "I'll just take it out on your beautiful arse." Draco gasped as Harry then smirked and squeezed his wrists, commanding in that same silken tone. "Leave them there."_ _

__The _'or else'_ was implied, which made Draco tremble to a degree, and then briefly consider tempting fate by pulling them away just to see what Harry would do if he disobeyed. But as Harry stared intently into his eyes, Draco only gave a little breathless nod, which then hitched as Harry slowly slid his hands over Draco's upraised arms, and down his sides to anchor at his hips. Draco returned that heated gaze, entranced by the flames licking within bright emeralds, and arched against the other man temptingly, daring him to do his worst._ _

__Harry answered with a rumbling purr, reminding Draco of the great cat that represented his House, and tilted his head, bringing their lips just a hairbreadth apart; and then Draco's lashes closed completely as the Gryffindor captured his mouth in a fiery kiss that curled his toes. Moaning into Harry's mouth, it took every ounce of his self-control to _not_ wrap his hands into silky black hair. Something Harry must have deduced given the smirk the spread over those perfect lips as they continued to tease and torment him, first with little kisses and nips to his lips, and then across his jaw and down his neck._ _

__"Think you can get me to repent?" he challenged softly, a thrill shooting through his body as Harry's hands clenched at the impertinent question, and then deepened as Harry flicked darkened, forest green eyes his way, a slow, enigmatic smile curling his lips; and Draco couldn't help wondering just what manner of wickedness was flitting through that devious mind._ _

__"Oh, I think I'll have you begging for mercy by the time I'm through with you," Harry promised devilishly, his lips sliding over Draco's jaw, nipping at the sharp edge as he added just as shamelessly. "And for my cock as well."_ _

__With that sinful threat, Harry began to devour his jaw, neck and shoulders in earnest, his mouth slowly driving Draco mad as it took the path his hands had taken earlier, licking and sucking and just _bloody killing_ him with heat and desire and want. Shuddering with need, he jolted when Harry's tongue first flicked over a pebbled nipple and then curled his tongue around it, sucking it into that talented mouth._ _

__Teeth caught on the edges of it, scraping his skin and Draco keened as his hips bucked softly into Harry's; he gave another subtle roll when the raven hissed, hoping to entice the other boy into reciprocating. But Harry just chuckled, swatted his arse gently and then continued to torment his skin, blatantly ignoring the erection boring into his hip. Frustrated by the lack of response, Draco removed his hands, reaching down to latch onto those lustrous black locks and bloody force Harry to comply, but hands shot up and slammed them back against the tiles, pinning him down as verdant eyes remonstrated him sharply._ _

___Fuck_ , but he _really_ loved it when Harry got this way. It was why he spent the entire game tweaking the lion's tail._ _

__"Dirty, little cheat," Harry censured, and Draco couldn't tell whether he was referring to this afternoon's game or his current attempt at escape, but it didn't matter as Harry's lips were on his skin once more, and it was bloody brilliant. "It's time to reap what you've sown."_ _

__"Please," Draco couldn't resist sniping, just knowing it was likely to land him in hotter water than that they were currently standing beneath; and he was right as those intense eyes flicked up again, sending a trill of excitement tripped down his spine. Grinning cheekily, he met smouldering eyes unflinchingly and sniffed. "You're all talk, Potter."_ _

__His impertinence was rewarded immediately._ _

__Breath catching in his throat as Harry's eyes flashed dangerously, Draco watched in anxious fascination as the other man slowly straightened, his mouth set in a determined line and then gasped when Harry shoved him back into the tiles behind him. His heart rate tripled, racing so hard that he thought it would beat right out of his chest as golden skin slid, _writhed_ against his and a hot breath whispered against his ear when his…paramour (?) scoffed wickedly. "Did you really think that I'd gone soft, sweet and docile in our time together, Malfoy? _Please._ Do remember that I am a _Gryffindor_ , _not_ a Hufflepuff; and it will take more than a few sweet kisses and short gropes to tame me."_ _

__Draco squawked in protest, his own eyes flaming at the unspoken implication that he didn't have what it took to pin the passionate lion down. Narrowing his gaze, he wrapped his fingers around the snickering Gryffindor's wrists and moved to reverse their positions and show the brat just how skilled Draco could at making Harry beg for his cock. But Harry, sensing Draco's intentions, pressed back, effectively trapping Draco within the circle of his arms, and held him down with nothing more than his body and sheer will, their eyes caught in one of those intense stares that left him unable to breathe._ _

__The action of being so thoroughly trapped, pinned down by the other man, made Draco's blood burn and bubble, rushing through his veins like liquid fire, and sunk straight to his twitching cock, which gave its wholehearted approval to Harry's actions. Fuck the man was hot. Groaning when skin melded with skin, Draco relaxed his grip and tilted his head back into the tiles, signalling his acceptance, and subsequent surrender._ _

__At least for now._ _

__"You _like_ this, _don't_ you?" Harry purred, trailing hot kisses over his neck, nipping gently as he taunted sotto voce. "Being held down; having your fine-tuned control stripped away. Feeling just a bit helpless as I do things to you; and you, being unable to stop me. Having to trust that I won't go too far, but secretly hoping I will. Ordering you to pleasure me, while you have to wait on mine for completion."_ _

___Fuck. Yes. Could he have some more, please?_ _ _

__"Is _that_ what you want, Draco?" Harry asked silkily, his hand sliding between them to cup and fondle his balls, fevered eyes running over him lazily. Draco nodded jerkily, unable to untangle his tongue long enough to answer the blazingly hot and in control man in front of him, hissing when fingers continued to tease and caress him, bringing a drop of pre-cum to the tip of his cock. Harry chuckled at his enthusiasm and murmured, in a voice almost too soft to hear, "Granted."_ _

__Inhaling sharply as Harry's magic washed over him, Draco gave a low moan as he felt it wrap and tighten around his cock and balls, revealing only then that Harry planned to use a magical cock ring on him. He really should have been paying more attention to the actual words Harry had been saying, rather than getting wrapped up in the sound of that dark, husky voice and the feeling of being held down. The man had told him exactly what to expect after all._ _

__With that, Harry kissed him softly, his eyes seeking his to make sure Draco realised what he was getting into, and then, obviously finding the answers he sought, stepped back to flick ravenous eyes over Draco. Licking his lips lasciviously, Harry's eyes traced over him slowly, his cock giving a twitch as Draco stood there, waiting on his command. Finally, after he had his fill, Harry's eyes flicked back up and met his, a slow wicked smile curling those impossibly kissable, perfect lips._ _

__"On your knees," Harry commanded in a soft, dangerous tone, sending a ripple of excitement, and just a touch of apprehension, through Draco._ _

__It was at this moment that Draco nearly baulked, used to doing exactly the opposite of everything Harry Potter wanted; but the slightly feral flicker in those fathomless eyes, almost daring him to refuse, had him swallowing heavily and dropping gracefully to his knees instead. Heart thudding in his ears, Draco watched as pleasure lit Harry's eyes, and then the raven firmed his shoulders and seemed to fall into his role as dominant without hesitation; and didn't _that_ make Draco all the hotter and harder to see. Kneeling before Harry, he dipped his head, placing his hands lightly on his thighs, and lowered his eyes in the perfect image of a submissive._ _

__A thick silence blanketed them as Harry stalked over, and straddling his knees, stood above him, his cock jutting proudly from his body nearly at mouth level; and still, despite wanting to taste that beautiful cock, Draco kept his eyes lowered, awaiting the other man's command. Harry wrapped on hand in Draco's hair, firm fingers curling around the strands and yanked it back, just far enough so that the tip of his cock touched Draco's lips. Brushing the leaking crown back and forth across them, Harry closed his eyes and let his head to fall back, a shiver of bliss visibly wracking his body as he commanded huskily._ _

__"Suck me."_ _

__Draco, eyes demurely cast, opened his mouth, and sucked the slick head into it, moaning as the salty, slightly bitter taste of Harry's cock exploded over his tongue. Sucking on it shamelessly, he swirled his tongue over the crown, loving the feeling of each ridge and indent as he began to bob lightly, taking a little more in each time. Releasing the head with a soft pop, Draco nuzzled the springy curls at the base with his nose, delighting in the low, drawn out moan that fell past Harry's parted lips._ _

__Licking a long, wet stripe up the bobbing cock in front of him, Draco kept his hands balled in his lap to prevent latching onto Harry's hips and sucking him down, as Harry hadn't said whether he could use them or not. It made manoeuvering a bit more difficult, but the lovely groans, whimpers and words of encouragement from above kept him on task as he slowly tormented the other man. Slitting his eyes a touch, he watched through his lashes as Harry struggled to keep his hips still through every lick, nibble and suck as Draco treated Harry's cock like his favourite lolly, and then hummed when Harry moaned again, his hands fisting into his hair._ _

__"You may…" Harry rasped, dropping his head to stare at Draco, seemingly mesmerised by the sight of him moving on his cock, and, pupils blown with lust, Harry petted his hair absently, threading his fingers through it for handhold. "You may use your hands… _oh, Merlin._ "_ _

__Harry cried out as Draco immediately took that permission to heart and wrapped his hands around Harry's hips, digging his fingers into the skin, and used them to steady himself as he sucked Harry's cock into his mouth, swallowing it near whole. Harry felt hot and heavy on his tongue, and tasted like musk and sweat and heaven as he curled it around the shaft, licking and sucking languorously; and he had to fight not to gag when Harry unconsciously arched into the touch, shoving his dick further into his mouth, hitting the back of his throat._ _

__Harry looked down apologetically, but was soon lost once more to Draco's mouth and tongue. Fingers curled into Draco's hair, tightening to an almost painful level as Harry tipped his head back and moaned his approval as Draco hummed again._ _

__" _Yes,_ " Harry hissed, his words almost sounding like parseltongue, making Draco's own cock jolt at the sibilant sounds. Draco bucked his hips against the floor tiles, whimpering when he found no relief for his impossibly hard cock, and only felt vindicated when the vibration sent Harry's eyes rolling back into his head, and even more words of heated encouragement spilt out of his mouth. "Just like that, Dragon. _So good._ "_ _

__Draco released Harry with an audible pop, a bit surprised by the use of his childhood nickname; he hadn't even been aware that Harry had known what his name meant. Licking his lips, he tilted his head back, meaning to take Harry's cock into his mouth again, but froze when brilliant, smouldering eyes pinned him into place, burning into him with the force of the sun and Draco swore that he couldn't possibly get harder or more turned on. And then Harry smirked and licked his lips, and quietly rasped, "On your feet, Malfoy."_ _

__Draco scrambled to his feet, gasping when Harry pulled him into his arms and then pressed them both back into the tiles in one swift movement, curling and moulding around Draco as their cocks slid and brushed against each other. Harry rolled his hips against his in small, mind-blowing circles, rocking and thrusting into Draco until he finally broke down and growled against Harry's throat. " _Fuck._ Fuck me already, Potter."_ _

__Grunting his displeasure when Harry merely snickered, his mouth curling into a smirk as Draco practically begged to be fucked, just as the other man had predicted earlier, and sent Draco grinding his hips mercilessly into Harry's in retaliation, nearly sending the other man to his knees. Growling, Harry gripped Draco's hips and squeezed, undulating his in response, drawing a small cry from Draco. And panting softly, Harry pressed a hard kiss against his lips, murmuring. "No. Not yet. The first time…the first time should be in a proper bed, not up against the locker room wall no matter how appealing."_ _

__Draco wanted to protest at that, but then Harry was disentangling their bodies, and stepping away, his voice a harsh whisper as he commanded imperiously. "Turn around; brace yourself against the tiles."_ _

__Scrabbling to comply, Draco rested his hands against the tiles, groaning when Harry took up the position behind him, his cock prodding at Draco's backside; and for a brief moment he worried that Harry might just enter him unprepared in his eagerness. But he quickly shunted that momentary fear away as Harry's hot, stiff flesh slid along the crack of his arse instead, feeling a bit silly for his nerves. He knew that no matter how far gone the other man might be, he would never knowingly hurt Draco._ _

__Groaning as he felt that long, hard length between his thighs, rutting and sliding against his skin, Draco still couldn't help feeling a bit disappointed that Harry didn't intend to fuck him in truth that day. How he longed to be breached by the other man. But _this_...this was nearly as good._ _

__Pushing himself into the wall, Draco rested a flushed cheek against the cool tiles, and bit back a whine when Harry squeezed and kneaded his arse, positioning himself so his cock slid between Draco's thighs with ease, and moaned lowly when the tip hit the back of his balls, nudging them gently. Arching his arse into Harry's hips, he reached a hand down to stroke himself, but his hand was forcefully slapped back onto the wall as Harry ground into his arse, a low muttered _'no touching what's mine,'_ his only acknowledgment. Whimpering at the denial, Draco leaned into the wall as Harry began to thrust between his arse cheeks, hoping the momentum would slid his aching cock along the wall and offer some relief._ _

__" _Touch me_ ," he demanded, nudging back with his hips, wiggling them against Harry's firm flesh, making the other man's breath hitch and fall into a helpless groan from the depths of his chest. When Harry to didn't immediately comply, Draco shifted his legs, closing the gap around his thighs and Harry's cock, subtly adding to the delicious skin on skin friction._ _

__" _Fuck,_ " Harry muttered, reaching between them to wrap his hand around Draco's weeping cock, and began to languidly stroke it until Draco, fed up with the lack of speed, groaned and began to shamelessly fuck his hand. Harry squeezed Draco's shaft, allowing him to rut into his hand for a few moments, but then quickly took the reins once more, setting an almost bruising pace as he fucked the tight space between Draco's thighs, his body trembling with desire and exertion._ _

__Draco strained in Harry embrace, the spell on his cock and balls making his movements near painful as Harry denied him his orgasm, content to rut against Draco's body while he was helpless to Harry's every whim. Fuck, but it turned him on and he loved the feeling of Harry's cock pounding him from behind, the crown rhythmically nudging his ball sack as the other man ground and thrust against him, over and over until, _finally_ , Harry's orgasm ripped through him with a low growl._ _

__"Mine," Harry whispered possessively, fiercely, as he finally released the spell that held Draco's pleasure in check, and then ground into him once more as he rode out the last of his own pleasure._ _

___'Yours,'_ Draco agreed in the back of his mind, crying out Harry's name as his body tensed in a familiar way, and one last stroke had him teetering over the edge, his sight whiting out, and stars bursting in his brain as he came harder than he'd ever come in his life.

Breathing harshly, Draco slumped against the tiles, trying to regain his composure as Harry slumped too, a heavy weight at his back, thankfully holding him up, as he was certain he'd slip to the floor otherwise. Drawing in several deep breaths, he whimpered as Harry's hands slid over sensitive skin, gently, but deftly rinsing their release from their bodies and he purred when he felt warm, soft lips at his nape, pressing sweet kisses along the length.

They leaned there, pressed together for several minutes, enjoying the feel of each others body and the warm cascade of water falling over them, until finally, their surroundings came back to them and Harry reluctantly pulled away. Turning to face Harry, he was surprised when he found the Gryffindor blushing and staring at his feet, obviously embarrassed by something. Walking over to Harry, he slid a finger under his chin and lifted his head, meeting wide, almost apologetic green eyes. And that's when Harry's behaviour dawned on him.

"Ummmm...errr," Harry stammered, his cheeks heating further when Draco just grinned at his adorable display of nerves. Only Harry would feel bad for dominating him and giving him exactly what he had been all but begging for the entire time.

"Potter," Draco stated dryly, but fondly, as he pushed a stray black curl behind the other man's ear. "If you even think about apologizing for what we did, I just might have to tie you down and show you how it's done properly; and without remorse."

"Right, right," Harry blushed, but grinned at him shyly, his eyes lighting in interest at the mention of being tied down, and Draco deftly filed that away for later exploration.

"You did _nothing_ that I didn't _want_ you to do," Draco emphasised meaningfully, his eyes dancing when Harry's shoulders released their tension, and he sagged in relief for a moment before sharp eyes turned his way, having caught his words. Draco merely grinned unrepentantly.

"You..." Harry began before trailing off to narrow his eyes thoughtfully, his lips thinning in feigned displeasure at the implications; unfortunately the sparkle of humour in his eyes gave away his utter amusement at being expertly played. "You did this on purpose."

"Brilliant deduction, Potter," Draco drawled with Gallic shrug, sweeping back his hair and turning off the water as he reached for his towel to dry off, and lobbed Harry's earlier words back at him with a slight twist. "Do remember that I'm a Slytherin, not a Hufflepuff."

"I ought to spank you for playing me like that." Harry shook his head disparagingly, but the quirk of his lips and twinkle in his eye let Draco know he wasn't serious. Thankfully. As he didn't think his arse could hand another that day. On another day however...

"Mmmm...perhaps later," Draco purred, voicing his thoughts, and delighted in the pink spreading across Harry's cheeks as he reached for his own towel, hastily scrubbing off and wrapping it around his waist. Draco wrapped his own towel around his and then sauntered towards their lockers to dress, taunting over his shoulder, "right now, I have a celebration to attend," and then chuckled when the Harry grumbled under his breath at that reminder, still smarting over Draco's win.

"Run along like a good boy then," Harry snarked, patting Draco condescendingly on the arse, making him whirl around with a mock frown.

"You did not just pat me on my ass, Potter," Draco choked out, slightly indignant.

"Oh, I think I just did," Harry mocked, grinning unrepentantly as he sauntered past.

"You'll pay for that..." Draco vowed, his eyes following the subtle shake of Harry's hips as he made his way to Gryffindor row, licking his lips as he mentally planned their next tryst and when he could get his hands on that delectable arse.

"Promises, promises..." Harry lofted with a smug grin, waving him off without concern as he turned down the aisle. "Now run along; your public awaits."

Draco narrowed his eyes as he watched the raven disappear, a slow, sly grin spreading across his face as he began to plot his lover's imminent downfall. So, Harry liked the idea of being bound...well, lucky for him, having Harry tied up and at Draco's mercy had long been a favoured fantasy and he had no qualms in setting that particular scenario into motion. It would only take some strategic manoeuvering; and with the Weasel spending nearly as much time in the Head Girl's room as he did in his own, infiltrating Harry's dorm would be a snap.

Turning on his heel, Draco slipped into his favourite mode of stealth and intrigue, planning out each step meticulously as he dressed and prepared for his team celebration. And if this didn't make the Gryffindor his for life, he'd willingly admit to defeat and just take whatever Harry had to offer, for as long as he were willing to share his life and time.


End file.
